I like my doctor’s office, everyone there is very nice, but they strike me as a little strange. Today had many fine examples.

Early on in the appointment the nurse asked me, “Do you want to give a urine sample?” I replied, “Uh, sure?” (I played it cool, but really, who doesn’t want to give a urine sample?) and she gave me very detailed instructions on how to “piddle”. Although her instructions didn’t include dropping or pulling up my pants, I did out of force of habit. I hope it’s alright to ad lib like that.

After I’d piddled, I returned to the exam room. The doctor came in shortly and asked me if I was planning on having blood drawn. I stammered for a minute and told him that if he thought it was necessary, I certainly could. He seemed genuinely confused by my confusion. He talked about it like he expected me to want blood drawn for my own piece of mind.

At the end of the appointment, the nurse returned with some bad news, “I’m afraid the doctor didn’t need your urine sample, so…” I was quite sure she was going to ask me if I wanted to take it home, but she surprised me, “…I guess I’ll flush it down the toilet?” Perhaps the inquiring inflection was an invitation for me to request a take-out bag. I told her I thought flushing it sounded good.

My mom works for a trauma surgeon, and I pictured him asking similar questions while fixing somebody’s hand or skull after a terrible accident, “Do you think your broken bone warrants a metal plate?”, “Would you like stitches?”