"Oh man, I totally remember this! My younger cousin had inhaled a small piece of eraser and she was wailing one day. But we didn't know what she had inhaled. My Aunt took her to the hospital. My cousin loved the flowers at the hospital's park and it was probably the only time when she was distracted enough to not cry. So, my Aunt carefully seated her on a bench and told me to keep an eye on her while she would go and check on the Doctor. I noticed that my cousin was fidgeting. After carefully inspecting, I saw that the bench was freshly painted and she was stuck to the bench like a gum. Despite everyone's effort, my cousin just couldn't get up. I had scolded the authorities for not indicating that the bench was freshly painted. Now, the Doctor was a very busy man! Despite being haughty, he was a great pediatric. He had told us to come in after 5 minutes. But my cousin was badly stuck. So, the only option left was to cut the dress (because we were in a hurry and nobody was giving me any oil/lubricant). After all the howling and wailing, we finally reached, but my cousin was barely dressed! It was hell embarrassing. I was so ashamed that I decided to wait outside. As far as my Aunt is concerned, she couldn't even look the doctor in the eye. The Doctor must have had a hearty laugh as well!" (Source).
"It is very common for me, as a triathlete, to have regular visits to an applied kinesiologist during the high season of the training year. The AK, who is a chiropractor also trained in nutrition, muscle testing and structure, always works wonders for whatever little injuries come up during my training --- or over-training as is sometimes the case. Over the years, I've been to his office dozens of times. Each time, I hop up on the table, a few muscle tests, adjustments, conversations about diet and workouts, and then I leave happy and relieved. But for some reason, this one and only time ever, the doctor needed to give me a deep tissue massage at the upper part of my hamstrings that apparently were not as easily accessible beneath my jeans. So, he --- again, for the very first and only time ever --- asked me to take off my jeans so he could get to it. He could tell by the awkward grin on my face that something must be wrong. The long pause between us was painful before I said these words: "Doc, listen, I am going to take off my jeans, but I need to explain something to you. I swear, I never ever wear these particular underwear that I am currently wearing, unless I get really behind in my laundry. Well, today was the day. I just don't want you to judge me too harshly." He started laughing a little and said, "Hey, I don't care. I'm not concerned about your underwear." So, there I was pulling down my jeans, at I think I was around 40 or 41 years old at the time, wearing my brand new Incredible Hulk Briefs --- they were like Under-roos, that I had gotten as a gag gift years ago. He started laughing so hard, he said, because it was nowhere as bad as he feared" (Source).
"It wasn't me, but my daughter, and it still makes me laugh today! My daughter was about 13, when she got a bad sty on one of her eyes, so off we went to the doctor. About this same time, she had just gotten some fun color (but hideous) yellow fingernail polish. I told her I didn't like the color, it looked like jaundice. So while we were sitting with the nurse to schedule a date to have the sty taken care of, I mentioned to my daughter, yet again, that I didn't like the yellow polish. She said, 'I know, because it looks like I have gonorrhea!' the scheduler about fell out of her chair laughing while I tried to tell my daughter I said jaundice, not gonorrhea. Then they asked about the date of her last menstrual cycle. She answered by saying it was hard to tell because her periods were so EROTIC. By this time, the scheduler totally lost it, she was laughing so hard, a nurse was standing outside the room laughing. I was mortified. They had to wonder what kind of people we were. I told her the word was erratic, not erotic. So she says, 'Erratic, erotic, what's the difference?' I waited until we left the office before she could get us in anymore predicaments" (Source).
"I was 22 when I had my first child. The delivery resulted in placenta abruptio (placenta tearing before the child is born) so the doctor had to use forceps to get my son out, which resulted in several lacerations in the birth canal. I was so swollen and in horrendous pain that the doctor ordered an ice pack to reduce the swelling and numb the pain. A young, gorgeous male intern - think Carter of ER (Noah Wyle) - came back with an ice pack and handed it to me to place it on my very swollen vagina. I thought, Oh jeez, couldn't they have sent a woman or a older male doctor? Why do you have to be so good looking? But I was in so much pain I couldn't move much less reach to place the ice pack in privacy. At that point, I gave up all sense of decorum, spread my legs and said, 'you put it'. I'm not sure what went through his head but he was nice enough to do so and arranged it according my direction 'No a bit to the left, now slightly up, there, perfect!' I thanked him and then went to sleep. To this day, I have never forgotten that embarrassment" (Source).
"I couldn't resist laughter, being diagnosed with an ultrasound machine. The apparatus which the doctor used was coined with a very smooth liquid substance. The process was done by moving that substance part on my naked body. A doctor, an assistant doctor and an almost adult man (me) were in a room. The diagnosis couldn't be conducted because the man was laughing hysterically --- the substance was ticklish! It was pretty embarrassing. I felt like the 5-year old child who needed candy just to be diagnosed. But still, I couldn't resist the mighty power of a tickle. The doctor began to push the apparatus to my body so I would stop laughing. With her effort and my hand stuck to my mouth we could finally get the diagnosis completed. I don't wish the evil of tickling on anyone! It sucks" (Source).
"I had been going to a local doctor's office for some time to receive various types of tests to put a diagnosis to the symptoms I was having at the time. The doctor called me one evening to inform me that one of the tests that I had taken came back positive for a rare genetic disease. Due to this being a pretty big deal to myself as well as my parents, my father, step mother, and mother attended my next doctor's appointment. At the appointment, my doctor introduced himself and started asking everyone who they were. We'll call my doctor by the name of Doc: Doc: Hi, I'm Doc.. and I'm assuming you're the dad? Dad: Yes Doc: Hi, I'm assuming you're the mother? Mom: Yes. Doc: And lastly, I'm assuming you're the grand mother? Shocked Step Mother: .... No... Dad: That's his step mother! Doc proceeded to apologize multiple times and continued to throughout the rest of the appointment at random times. It was one of the most uncomfortable and embarrassing experiences I've had at a doctor's office" (Source).
"I tried being Michael Douglas! I was hospitalized in 2005 for Jaundice (Hepatitis). The hospital was also a medical college and everyday the Doctor in charge would come in with lots of students and would examine. One day during examination of my charts, he asked, 'So what was the color of your stool today?' I don't know what overcame me, may be boredom, I quoted Michael Douglas from Basic Instinct (husking my voice as much as possible) 'I don't look in the toilet before I flush it!' Doctor raised his head from charts (looking somewhat like above) and said, 'Make sure you do tomorrow and tell me' Meanwhile everyone else, the students, nurses and my brother" (Source).
"I was embarrassed for the doctor! Many years ago I had a suction lipectomy done on my neck to remove excess fat. When I went back for a post-surgical follow-up, the doctor asked me to remove my blouse and bra. Never having been shy or modest around medical professionals, I figured he must have needed to see my neck in relation to the rest of my chest. So I happily disrobed and was standing there with my 'stuff' hanging out, when he realized I was not another patient who had had a boob job. He calmly asked me to put my clothes back on, and apologized for mistaking me for the other patient. But he was blushing like crazy. I just got a chuckle out of it" (Source).
"Not a doctor but an optician. I went for my annual eye test and to get a prescription for the next year's supply of contact lenses. I usually meet the same optician and he gave me a warm welcome to the big machine that tests your eyes. He started the test and was very surprised to read the results. In great excitement, he came up to me and said: 'Ma'am, we have only come across this in theory and I never knew this is really possible. Your power has corrected completely! You don't need contact lenses or glasses anymore!' I actually believed him for a moment before sheepishly replying 'Are you sure you negated the effect of the contact lenses I am wearing?' Turns out I was supposed to take them off at least 30 minutes before testing my eyes, oops. The man was at loss for words. Not sure if he was more embarrassed or I was" (Source).
"Many doctors have witnessed some embarrassing moments. Nearly everyone has had at least one embarrassing moment on front of a doctor at some point of their life. If they have not, they will. I will share with you my most embarrassing moment in front of a doctor. It happened the day that I went in labor with my daughter. The day started out as a normal day. It was was very close to my due date so I decided that I would do all that I could to try to speed up the process. On this day I would go to school since my college courses were about five minutes away, go to the grocery store, and walk around the mall for a little bit. While I was getting dress I started to feel a weird feeling. It didn't hurt, but I still felt the need to call the doctor. He told me not to worry and to call back if I started feeling pain. So the day went on as scheduled. Come nightfall, at about 8pm, I felt the first contraction. My husband was asleep and I didn't want to wake him because he had to get up for work in a few hours for work. I called my mother to tell her that I think I would go into labor that night and she told me to call her back after American Idol went off. So I waited. After a while the contractions started to get worse and I woke my husband to let him know that he wouldn't be going to work and that would be the night. All the while I felt as if I had to have a bowel movement, but I didn't go because I thought I would push the baby out into the toilet. So against my better judgement I didn't use the restroom. When we reached the hospital I still had the urge to use the restroom but could only focus on the contractions until I was injected with the epidural. My husband and mother was there and watched the entire birth. When she finally arrived. we were all overjoyed! Some months later my husband told me that I had had a bowel movement while pushing our daughter out. Although, it was months later, I was mortified! he said he didn't tell me because he didn't want to me be embarrassed" (Source).
"I was doing a post-op checkup. The surgeon told me his very attractive (not his words, of course) daughter was shadowing him for the day and asked if it was alright if she sat in. I agreed. While he was out of the room, his daughter and I talked and flirted a bit. So far so good. The surgeon came back and put up my x-rays on the screen. I could identify what most things were except for one very large oddly-shaded region. I couldn't figure out what it was... so I asked. 'What's that large blob?' 'Oh, that? That's just gas'" (Source).
"I have a great one. My mom and dad had been married for quite some time when he shaved his head one summer. My mom immediately freaked out and INSISTED that he go to the doctor for the large bump on the back of his head. Dad insisted that he had the bump since birth and mom wouldn't hear anything of it. She won the argument (as she usually does), the doctor's appointment ensued, and here was dad in the office when the doctor walks in. The normal banter is exchanged and he asks dad what the problem is. My dad replied, 'My wife insisted that I was about to die as she noticed this lump on the back of my head that I have had since I was born'. He shows the doctor who busts out laughing and told him that it was a external occipital protuberance or occipital bun (basically a knot on the back of his head). The doc felt bad and said, 'Well, can I at least offer you a physical or something since you are here and paying for the visit?' This isn't my dad, but you get the idea if you look at the back of his guy's head behind his ears. My family's genetic trait is that our 'bun' is significantly larger" (Source).
"Note: PG-13 content in this answer... Not intended for audiences under the age of 13. I was 19, in my sophomore year at college, and still a virgin. I went to the student health center with a horrible sore throat. After strep came back negative, and flu came back negative, and a bacteria-check came back negative, a look at my throat-swabbings under a microscope indicated a serious overpopulation of Candida (vaginal yeast.) I was blushing slightly at this discovery, because I knew enough about Candida to have some idea of how it probably got there. No fun to be suffering from something similar to thrush, without also having this kind of embarassing surprise diagnosis with a male doctor in the room. My doctor (Male, about age 45-ish) looked at me the way a car trader looks at a new red Ferrari, and then asked if I was sexually active. I blushed some more, due to the slightly invasive question, and replied, 'No, I'm still a virgin'. My doctor rather-too-obviously appraised my perfect, 19-year old legs (in a pink frilly miniskirt), and then he asked, 'Are you sure you aren't sexually active with a girlfriend, perhaps?' I blushed even more at this leading question, especially since I had been having occasional lesbian-fantasy dreams, about a particularly tall and strong redhead from my home high school, whom had a crush on me. Trying to keep a straight face I replied with irritation, 'I'm the child of hippies, and my legs aren't shaven. But I'm also a virgin with respect to female-female contact. I don't have a girlfriend, and the only girl I'd ever want to kiss is going to a different University from me'. My doctor looked at my gravity-defying 19-year old breasts the way a hungry teenager looks at a pizza. He asked me, 'Are you, maybe, engaging in 'outercourse', then? Making out below the bellybutton is perfectly normal for teens your age'. At this point I nearly DIED of embarrassment. I was blushing about the color of a pink carnation, possibly darker, all the way from my forehead to my bustline. I seriously would have slapped that man right then--- Not for the somewhat reasonable questions about my sexual activity--- but for all his ogling and leering... if he hadn't been a young-adult gynecology specialist. This may sound odd, but I actually wasn't even having 'outercourse' at this time, mainly due to being raised Catholic, & also due to being a painfully shy loner, and introvert. And now, I was feeling extra-self conscious about not having a boyfriend to be engaging in 'normal' 'outercourse' with! Trying not to raise my voice too much, I took a deep breath and said: 'I WISH I had a viable candidate to be having 'outercourse' with, Sir, but although you seem interested, you're disqualified due to being my doctor and the same age as my Dad. I am not even engaging in 'outercourse'. The doctor chuckled, smiled a dirty-old-man leer, and said, 'You might be flexible enough to perform cunnilingus on yourself, or to have other interesting means of self-infection, to get the Candida from your vagina, where it belongs, to your throat, where it doesn't belong. Well, no worries, we can clear it up pretty quickly with some Diflucan. Do get yourself a nice young man to have 'outercourse' with, but not until you're cured of the yeast infection. Good luck in your studies'. I grabbed the prescription for Diflucan, and hurried out of there as fast as I could, without a word. One week after my last symptom, I found myself a suitable male 'outercourse' partner. Athletic science major dude, good conversationalist, funny, rather attractive due to strength, and eyes that changed color with his moods and surroundings. And a good tutor for my tougher science subjects, which he'd already aced. He was a year older than me. Whew! Now, I said to my 19-year old self, I can relax, and feel 'normal' again" (Source).
"Not mine, but my aunt's. Way back in the late 1950s, in the UK, my rather nervous and prudish aunt went for a chest x-ray. She was asked to strip to the waist and wait for the technician. She did as asked, and a young technician entered the room. He took one look at her and said: 'Would you remove your knickers, please?' She did. He looked at her again. 'I said necklace_, _madam'" (Source).
"Ha. I was admitted in hospital for kidney stone at my 19 teen, laparoscopy operation was gone well and they inserted a stent. Stent is a soft tube. It would be left it in your body for 15 days to remove the remaining stones after the operation. After 15 days I am in hospital to remove the stent and am like this That hospital has a medical college as well and you are right two girl students joined the course of action and am not sure why there was no anesthesia given. I was in extreme pain. I clearly saw their giggle and smile inside their mask and i was like man please drink water. Thank god i never saw their face but..." (Source).
"I had an intestine operation done sometime back. My sibling, an anesthetist was assisting the surgeon. I was under the effects of anesthesia post the surgery. I looked at my brother and said, 'I respect you a lot, you took a lot of care of me, you're like a brother' I was bloody embarrassed after everyone told me what kind of absurd things I was blabbering. I was officially, medically high as sh-t" (Source).
"A few years back I decided that I should get a vasectomy. My GF and BC pills did not get along. Often the snip is done in the urologist's office but my insurance would only cover most of the cost in a hospital setting. My older daughter (18) volunteered to drive me home from the hospital. That in itself was somewhat embarrassing. But it gets better. To avoid the dry razor treatment, I had carefully shaved 'the boys' and was ready to get it over with. I was prepped, filled out and signed all the paperwork in my little hospital gown. The doctor comes by and asks if I'd mind an observer. I'm in an agreeable mood and said sure. The nurse wheels me into the cutting arena and the doctor appears ready to get started. He is then surrounded by the observers.... A gaggle of nursing students looking over his shoulder. OK, fine. I'm not ashamed of my junk. So.... In goes the needle to numb the areas. Ouch, ouch. So far so good. I'm ready to be all manly and macho in front of this female audience. Feel a little pressure. I assume the incisions. Hmm.. what's taking so long??? Another injection. Stiff upper lip. Damn that hurts. More time. Then I hear 'this might pinch a little'. Holy f--k!!!! Apparently there are multiple small things the surgeon must work around that are sometimes difficult to separate. The vas tube, a small artery and a very important nerve all wrapped up together in a neat little bundle. Clamps are required as well to finesse things apart and it takes some time make sure to not snip things that need not be snipped. The clamping was as if each testicle, in turn, were put in an ever righting vise. All my macho manliness disappeared and was replaced by cries of extreme pain. I broke out into a sweat and I started to blackout. A cold washcloth to my forehead brought me back just enough to hear some chuckles and snickering. Fortunately the doctor explained how the injection of local anesthetic can cause the entire bundle to swell and make it quite difficult to tease out the part to snip. I did get a thank you for letting them observe. It still didn't assuage my embarrassment of whimpering like a wuss. Fortunately, a day of ice packs and a couple days of cleaning out the plumbing and I was ready to try out my modified tackle. As an aside, I was told my experience was quite atypical and most patients feel very little pain during this procedure. And, most don't get to blackout in front of an audience. Also fortunately, I did not recognize any of the nursing students as friends of my daughter" (Source).
"This didn't happen to me. It happened to my oldest sister Anne. She was a nursing student at St. Francis Hospital's Nursing School from 1969-71. As she progressed through her nursing studies, she and her fellow nursing students worked on the floors as part of their curriculum. One day, Anne and two other nursing students were on a floor and were told that a woman in their care had suffered a miscarriage early in her pregnancy and that she was expected to expel the fetus at some point, most likely sometime during their shift. Once the fetus was expelled, they were told to collect it and send it down to the lab. At some point during the evening, the poor woman suffered stomach pain. Anne and her colleagues placed a bed pan under her, gave her some privacy, and the woman passed the remains. This was a Catholic hospital in Trenton, New Jersey, and before Roe v. Wade, and my sister and her associates as devout Catholics took this event and responsibility very seriously. Before the woman passed it, they had discussions amongst themselves. This they agreed was a 'baby', deserving of respect, etc. So they decided that they'd 'baptize' the fetus before forwarding on to the lab. In their innocence, amongst themselves, they decided on a name for this little 'baby' -- Elizabeth. Sometime during their shift and but before the woman's expulsion of the fetus, one of them collected a small bit of holy water from the chapel. Before sending Elizabeth down to the lab, they poured some holy water on the bloody, messy small blob, said some prayers, and 'baptized' the babe. Anne related that they did this with reverence and deadly seriousness. A couple of hours later, they got a call from the lab. The nurse on the ward took the call. The lab tech asked, 'Who's the joker?' The nurse didn't understand and asked what the tech meant. The lab tech then told her, 'This isn't a fetus. It's a piece of sh-t!' The nurse nearly fell off her chair laughing. Anne and her fellow students were the laughing stock of the school and the hospital for weeks afterward. The jokes and the story went around the hospital for a long time afterward. The best joke was that 'England had Elizabeth the Second, and St. Francis had Elizabeth the Turd'" (Source).
"Back in one seventh grade PE class, we were about to play some football (soccer, for you Americans). While we were waiting for someone to get the football from the PE room, my eyes turned their gaze towards one of the goalposts, giving me an idea. You know how the goalposts have two vertical crossbars parallel to one another on the top? Well, twelve year old me had the wonderful idea to try and swing across them as if I was Spiderman on a set of monkey bars. However, I'd forgotten that the crossbar facing the field had hooks on it. Unknowingly, I hung onto the other bar, and took a swing of faith to the one with hooks. I made the swing, but felt a sharp pain in my left wrist. I jumped down to take a look, only to realize that the hook had severed a good chunk of skin off, exposing the flesh within. My mother was called up by the school, and she had to take me to the hospital. Once we got there, I was told I had to get the wound stitched. Now, when you get wounds, you're supposed to get an anaesthetic so that you don't cry out in pain while they sew you up. Unfortunately, that anaesthetic had to be administered through a needle. That's where things went downhill. As a little kid, I was scared of needles. And of course, I was willing to do anything to stay away from them; doubly so if they were going to inject the anaesthetic right next to my wound. Even if it meant giving up every shred of dignity I had by throwing the biggest tantrum that hospital had ever seen. Which is exactly what I did. I cried and wailed rivers out my eyes. At one point, they tried to hold me down, but I just wailed louder. In fact, I made such a scene that the head doctor herself had to come in and calm me down, with the nurses looking on. After that, they tried to give me the shot, this time far, far away from my wound so that I wouldn't be afraid. However, my illogical rational mind decided that since I'd done so much to avoid the shot, I might as well follow through with it. Another tantrum followed, as they tried to give me the shot, with no success. At this point, the hospital staff was done with my sh-t, and decided to simply wrap up my wound and let me go. A week later, I realized how foolish I was to not get the wound stitched as soon as possible, and decided to make amends. I booked an appointment with the kids hospital(as I was young enough to go there) to get the stitches. Thankfully for me, they used a baby needle to inject the anaesthetic, which wasn't as intimidating as a full sized one. Fast forward to now, I'm no longer afraid of needles, and sit still when the doctor tells me. In hindsight, while I can understand being scared of a needle, throwing such a tantrum was unnecessary, and the needle probably wasn't so painful either. On the bright side, the wound got me a day off from school, and a cool-looking permanent scar which I can show off" (Source).
"I have a few. The first happened when I was 13 and in the midst of puberty. I got shingles totally covering my right breast. I had to take off my top and bra so the male doctor could have a look. Also in my teens, I regularly saw a dermatologist, as I'm very fair and have a long family history of skin cancer. This dermatologist had absolutely no filter. She called me into her office and as I sat down she asked why I was there. I mumbled something about getting my moles checked and she asked 'what about your face?' I have a good complexion and to this day have no idea what she thought was wrong with my face. The last one was the worst. I contracted malaria while visiting Vietnam. Not long after returning home the symptoms started. I ended up in hospital on a drip. One of the symptoms was really bad night sweats. I would wake up I'm the middle of the night totally saturated, including the bed. Because I was on a drip I couldn't change my gown without assistance from the night nurse (who was a raging b--ch). It might not be embarrassing per se but it did rob me of the little dignity I had left" (Source).
"I've been hospitalized quite a number of times due to my illnesses but one of the first stays I had a few years ago sticks out. I was admitted to the pediatric ward (I was 19) and I was pretty much the only patient so all the nurses would constantly come into my room. While I was there, I was told I would need a colonoscopy and then they started to give me all the medicines to prep. At first, nothing was happening and they actually had to put in a suppository (not a great memory) but soon I kept running to the bathroom. I was frustrated with the nurses because every time one came in, it was always right before I had to go to the bathroom. Finally I couldn't take anymore and I holed up in the bathroom and decided to just stay there for a while. I had my phone and magazines and figured no one would bother me but I was on a lot of IV meds so they had to change them and soon they were knocking on the door. There was nothing I could do but let them in. It was just one nurse at first and she assured me many times that I had nothing to be embarrassed about as I sat there on the toilet. However then she called out to another nurse to bring her a saline flush. This second nurse not only came with the flush but also with the doctor since he was making his rounds. So let's recap: I'm sitting on the toilet actively going to the bathroom and three other people are inside with me. They were giving me lots of morphine so it didn't bother me as much at the time due to the effects of the drug but I definitely cringe every time I think back to that. It was kind of funny though because the three of them were just chatting away as if this was completely normal and like a girl wasn't going to the bathroom two feet away. I think next time I will lock the door! :)" (Source).
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