Don't ask me how I know that
"Going to the clinic on 4th in Boston is a mistake. They have no sense of privacy. Don't ask me how I know that."
How I know that:
I don't know if you know this, but I have always had digestive problems. Bleeding ulcers, chronic diarrhea and the like. But when I was in my early 30s, I developed a new symptom: a staggering amount of blood coming out of my ass. So needless to say I was a little uneasy and went to see a doctor.
All was well, I was sitting in the waiting room, trying to get comfortable for what was looking like it would be a long wait. The room was full, like 20 other people were waiting.
So the lady at the front desk calls out, "Canavacc…in…a…de.." and I know she's just butchering my last name, so I stand up and go to the front desk.
She starts to check me in, including a proper pronunciation of my last name, and my health insurance information.
Typical stuff, I have to lean in a little, because there's a lot of chatter in the waiting room.
Then, for no reason at all, the waiting room goes dead silent, just in time for her to ask,
"And you're here for the rectal bleeding?" loudly enough for everyone to hear.
I'm dying of embarrassment, but I stay strong, keeping my face stoic and I say, "Yea, that's me."
She finishes checking me in, and then I have to take the walk of shame back to my seat, and wait 15 more minutes before I'm called into the back. I won't look at anybody the entire time.
By the way, I ended up being fine… just perfectly "normal" rectal bleeding.
The visit was unbearable, though.
The doc asks if I took proper measures during sex.
I was like, "Excuse me?"
The guy thought I was just having an obscene amount of anal sex and that was why I was bleeding.
It took over 5 minutes to explain that nothing went into my ass, and the look he gave me couldn't have said, "I don't believe you" any more directly unless he verbally said it.