I can’t imagine the size of a finger really being relevant. You’re not having to stretch to accommodate any finger I’ve ever seen. Any difficulty in insertion would be muscular tension, I’d expect.
I have generally preferred female doctors (zombie or otherwise). Call it homophobia if you like, but I’m just more comfortable with a woman handling my parts. It’s actually a pretty small difference though… a physical is pretty awkward regardless of who the doctor is.
This. Even though there’s nothing sexual about it, I’m just more comfortable being naked in such ways around a woman rather than a man.
My primary care docs for the past 15 years have been women, and I’m happy with that.
And yeah, smaller fingers are good, with respect to rectal exams. Since I’m north of 60, I’m at an age where they like to check my prostate every year or two, so it’s not of trivial importance.
I too am slightly more comfortable with a female doctor, although in the overall scheme of things it doesn’t make much difference. They’re professionals who see and prod naked bodies every day. I don’t imagine I’m such a physical outlier that I need to be embarrassed about any of my parts: inside or outside.
I’ve had a female doctor for the last couple of decades, and she’s religious about annual physicals. So when it comes time for “that” part of the exam, I usually do a little grumble, which she takes in good stride. Some comment like, “ok, THIS isn’t my favorite part of the exam…”. (She occasionally replies, “Mine, either”) 
Lo and behold, my annual physical was a couple of months ago, and when it got to “that” part of the exam, she said, “that’s not part of the annual exam anymore”.
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Now, I don’t know if it is recommended on a multi-year rotation, or eliminated altogether, but I’ll take it.
My understanding is that they only do it regularly when you are over a certain age. Maybe a doctor can fill us in on the official guidance, but I know my wife used to schedule an annual physical for me (since, as a woman, she’s used to that for herself) and the doctor told her that every three or five years was fine for my age and general health level.
zombie or no
no problems with female health practitioners doing that.
I don’t see the reason for the hate of rectal exams. I’ve had several, and they’re not painful or even uncomfortable. It’s not something I would seek out, but frankly, going to the dentist is way worse.
Yes,and I FARTED ON HER!
(I didn’t fart on her.)
My Urologist is a young, pretty female Doctor. I thought I might get a chubby from her examining my penis, but I needn’t have feared it after all. Something about the clinical setting, you see…
I’ve only once ever had a physical exam by a male doctor, and he did not perform a digital prostate exam. I’ve had over 40 such exams by doctors of female gender. I’d imagine the advantage is that they have smaller fingers. I just stay quiet and think of England.
The smaller fingers might be nice and all, but you gotta watch out for those lady fingernails.
[sub](yes, I realize that they probably don’t have long fingernails if they do this procedure, you party pooper that was about to point that out…)[/sub]
Yes, they are a little more careful and caring than any male doctor I have had do it.
they use more lube.
Poor kid. At least he signed his donor consent form.
What is a “doctor”?
Not yet, but my new primary care physician is going to be a woman once all the paperwork goes through.
Once you pass a certain age modesty goes out the window.
Well, I never before had reservations about a woman giving me a rectal exam, but, it’s not something I planned for, either. I recently survived (barely) a grueling 2+ year long divorce (advice: you may think it’s fun to date a narcissistic sociopath, but don’t marry one) and with ex-Mrs.Tibby now safely recoiled back to hell, it was time for my daughters and I to get on with life. This included getting new medical insurance and appointing for overdue physicals.
I’ve typically had male PCP’s for myself, but my daughters felt they outgrew their pediatrician and wanted to trade-up to a family medicine practitioner—a female. So, for simplicity sake, I chose the same female PCP for all of us. I made simultaneous initial visit appointments for us just a few weeks ago.
Naturally, the day of the appointment was an anxiety-ridden exercise in “beat the clock” and I spend all my time getting the girls dressed and ready for their appointment, with no thought to my own attire. Big mistake.
We checked in at the doctor’s office and waited.
Tibbina: “Dad, I want to go in alone, you always embarrass me in front of the doctor.”
Tibby: “Embarrassing you is my job. Besides, you’ll forget to tell the doctor important things.”
Tibberta: “Dad, can we get McDonalds on the way home.”
Tibby: *“Is our last name Rockafella? No, I’m making tuna croquets.” *
Finally we’re called into the examination room and a frumpy medical assistant takes our vitals and tells us the doctor will be in shortly. 10 minutes later, I hear a knock at the door and I say, “come in.” The door opens.
And then, the doctor [del]walks[/del]…no, no… a veritable vision of beauty slinks through the door like a warm, moist breeze on a frigid day. This gal was not just “doctor pretty”, she was “sultry-librarian pretty”! No ring-finger ring; no ring-finger tan line…not that I’m noticing.
“I’m Dr. Lovely, how are you all?” Well, hellooooo doctor, where have you been all my medical life? Fricken kids, why’d they have to tag along!?!
“Glad to meet you, doctor, I’m Tibby, these are my daughters, Tibbina and Tibberta.”
Dr. Lovely proceeded to give Tibbina and Tibberta thorough H&Ps and developed appropriate treatment plans for them both. I did manage to embarrassment the girls to the best of my ability. And then, it was my turn. I hopped up on the exam table.
The doctor and I then engaged in the typical past medical history chit-chat and history of present illness pillow talk. Then, she proceeded to inspect, palpate, percuss and auscultate me in a most satisfactory manner.
Things were going swimmingly well and everything was clicking—until what came next. I should have anticipated it, of course, it’s fairly routine, particularly on an initial visit for a middle-aged man.
“I need you to stand up and strip down to your underpants.”
Oh, no! Not that. Not now. Those damned daughters of mine. They put me in this damnable position! You see, I’m not normally averse to dropping my britches in front of a pretty woman at the drop of a hat (or visa-versa), but this wasn’t normal.
Dr. Lovely was rolling her exam chair toward my crotch, waiting for me to comply. So, I closed my eyes, and dropped my britches, as ordered. And there, staring Dr. Lovely straight in the face, in all of his neon yellow garishness… was Spongebob Squarepants, his big grin right where my big willy should be.
“Gag…gift…from…my…daughters”, I managed to squeek softly over my vocal cords.
“Funny girls”, said she.
Dr. Lovely slipped her soft latexed fingers under Spongebob’s head and around my giblets, supposedly to check for lumps, but perhaps a little to check out the merchandise. But, drat the luck, between the underpants embarrassment and the horrendously figid exam room, there was virtually no blood coursing through my genitals. Impressive, they were not. Oh, if only this room were 10 degree warmer, she’s be mighty impressed!
I had to say something. “You keep this exam room pretty cold, doc.”*
“A lot of my male patients tell me that, for some reason”, she replied. “Now, drop Mr. Squarepants to the floor and bend over with your elbows on the table.” *
“Yes,[del]Mistress[/del] Dr. Lovely.”
Now, I don’t like to brag (well, actually, I do), but, a couple or 40 years ago, my derriere was considered pretty cute by members of the fair sex. And, it may very well be considered cute today (so long as “cute” buttocks criteria don’t include trivial things like “symmetrical”, “un-saggy” and “blemish-free”). So, I had at least a long-shot expectation that Dr. Lovely may find my derriere, well…lovely.
I dropped Bob to the floor, bent over and allowed entry of the heavenly finger. It was soon obvious to me that there was more than just clinical assessment going on down yonder, if you know what I mean. It was obvious as soon as I heard the doctor moan huskily, mmmmm………mmmmm.”
“Tibbina, Tibberta!, it’s time for you two to go wait in the reception area, daddy has business to attend to” (just kidding, the kids left minutes ago).
Granted, the “mmm….mmm” turned out to be my cell phone in vibration mode, but I tell you, that wonderful, wanton finger of Dr. Lovely’s seemed to be doing more than just rooting around, exploring and palpating. It seemed to be…caressing.
Now, I’m not going to sit here and tell you absolutely that my primary care physician was deriving sexual satisfaction by giving me a digital prostate rectal examination…
…but, then again, I can’t tell you that she wasn’t deriving sexual satisfaction by giving me a digital prostate rectal examination, either. Let’s just say, it’s possible, and the jury’s still out.
Update: The only phone call I’ve received from the doctor’s office since my appointment was from the frumpy assistant telling me my lab results, so I guess Dr. Lovely’s and my rendezvous of the heart is to remain forever unspoken and unfulfilled.
I do have a colonoscopy scheduled in the near future, so we’ll see what happens.
Some of the interpreted facts of this story may have been slightly embellished due to lack of sexual relations for >1.2 decades
applause
Typically, women’s watches are smaller than men’s.
Generally speaking, medical rectal exams do not involve fisting. When they do, a likely sequalae is similar to that experienced by Tick Tock the Crocodile.
No problem. I’ve been sick enough sometimes and am old enough now that any possible “shyness” wore off long ago. Prostate or hernia, just tell me which way to bend and when to cough.