I am surprised, since everyone in this room is working toward a professional degree of one sort or another (be it nursing, physical therapy, nurse practitioner, etc.), at how the whole class instantly reverts to junior high at the first mention of "penis".
The guy sitting next to me was visibly uncomfortable during the entirety of the detailed description of the architecture and inner workings of the male system. He was doing a lot of shifting around in his chair, and sighing heavily as though he found it all very stressful. I also could hear snide comments and giggled whisperings behind me--a running commentary on the lecture.
During a break, he turns to me and says, "You're going to be a doctor. Do you have a preference for working with men or women?" I shrugged, saying, "It doesn't matter. You could have a mean guy for a patient, and a nice gal or vice versa."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I mean," he looks at me sideways, with a shrugging gesture, "You know. Down there." Nonplussed, I said, "I don't care. It's all just giblets. I don't really think of it any differently than any other part. It's like apples and oranges, you know? They look a little different, but they're both just fruit." He shook his head, unimpressed.
And how did I get to a fruit analogy during my story about genitalia?
When I told Matt this story, he said, "And THAT'S why you're gonna be the doctor and he isn't." Well, that's all fine and good, but the guy WILL be a nurse who's gonna turn tail and run at the rumblings of a pending male perineal exam.
Then I rejoiced in my professor's blunt and hilarious description of the process of getting a pap smear, laughing out loud as she referred to the speculum as a "metal cranking tool".
Ah, it's funny 'cause it's true.
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