One of the perks in my otherwise dull job is that twice a year I get to see dozens of the local high school boys in their underwear. Spring and fall is physical exam time and I work as a nurse practitioner for Dr. Richard P. Thornberry, a much beloved elderly doctor in our small town. Dr. Thornberry gives the boys their physical exams so they can be cleared for sports, just as he probably did for their fathers years before. As his nurse, I get to tell each boy to strip down to his shorts to be weighed and then watch as they slowly do a strip tease for me, though of course that's not how they would look at it. If you want to watch a boy lose his masculine bravado pretty quickly, order him to drop his pants. Its amazing how threatened they get.
I grew up in awe of these athletic boys when I was high school - I, the bookish girl with few dates, with constant crushes on the unattainable captain of the swim team. As a result, seeing these specimens of athletic boyhood parading before me twice a year is about as close as I've come to "having" one of these perfect boys. That is, until quite recently.
It was the middle of last winter when Dr. Thornberry, a bit more agitated than usual, said, "I'll have to cancel my appointments today," as he was needed at the hospital for some complications regarding a pregnancy he recently handled. I looked at the appointment book and said, "You only have one, a Mr. Truesdale."
"Oh yes," he said. "Bryan Trousdale. A sports physical."
"Now?" I said.
"Yes," he said. "Bryan has been home schooled, but now he wants to enroll in the local high school to play sports." He looked at his calendar. "You'll have to find a time to reschedule him."
I hated to let this unexpected opportunity pass, so I took a chance. "Doctor, if its just a routine physical, there is really no reason I can't handle it."
The good doctor pondered this for a moment. "That would be a help," he said. "Let me call his parents."
He went into his office for a few minutes and then came out and announced, "everything is set. I spoke to Bryan's mother and explained the situation. She actually seemed grateful that we could do the exam right away."
The gentle old doctor patted my arm and thanked me. "His parents are a bit ... well ... religious and old fashioned. He's never gone to a regular school - always been schooled at home. I doubt he's ever had a comprehensive physical examination," Dr. Thornberry said, "so I think you should be thorough."
About an hour later, when I saw this handsome 18-year-old boy peddle up to the clinic in his bike, I felt like thanking Dr. Thornberry.
Bryan entered the clinic and looked around cluelessly. "I'm looking for Dr. Thornberry."
Evidently, his mother hadn't told him about the change in plans.
I introduced myself. "I'm Alyson, Dr. Thornberry's nurse. The doctor was called away for an emergency, so I'll be doing your exam today."
He had no reaction to this.
"We've talked to your mom."
"OK," he said. His lack of reaction told me he had never been through a physical exam before. Teenaged boys usually resent getting a exam from someone of the opposite sex.
I led him into the examination room and told him to hang up his jacket. Under the jacket, he was wearing a T-shirt advertising a baseball team, jeans, white socks, and track shoes. Typical teenage guy clothes. I spent about 10 minutes chatting with him, putting him at ease. He seemed wary at first, a boy of few words, but loosened up a bit. His hair was brown-blonde, but his eyebrows were dark. He had blue eyes and a light complexion. His shoulders narrowed to about a 28 inch waist.
I started the exam by looking into his eyes and ears, down his throat, taking his pressure. He seemed uneasy being felt up, but was extremely compliant, clearly a boy who did exactly what he was told. He confirmed what I already suspected: that he had not been seen by a doctor since he was a small boy.
Time to push the envelope a bit. "OK, Bryan, I have to weigh you now, so strip down to your underwear."
He did a brief double take. "What, here?"
"Yes," I said without looking up. "I have to weigh you."
So I watched him very deliberately slip his T-shirt over his head, revealing his thin but developing upper body. Then he removed his shoes and socks, revealing clean soft feet with perfectly trimmed toenails. Then turning around modestly, he lowered his pants. When he turned back around he had on nothing but white briefs, undoubtedly bought by his mom.
