Vaiso

 

John's First Visit to the Doctor

John sat nervously in the sterile hospital waiting room, his hands gripping the fabric of his pants as his mind raced. It had been four days since the pain in his abdomen started, a sharp, uncomfortable feeling that only worsened with each passing hour. He couldn't ignore it anymore—his body was telling him something, and he had to listen.

But the thought of going to the doctor made him want to crawl out of his own skin. He had always been a shy person. As a 30-year-old man, he wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of anyone seeing him in a vulnerable state, especially when it came to something as private as this.

He looked around at the other patients—none of them seemed to care, chatting away or flipping through magazines. He felt like an alien in a room full of strangers, his anxiety rising with every tick of the clock.

Finally, his name was called.

"John?" the nurse asked, her voice polite but impersonal.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." John stood up, his legs shaky as he followed her down the hallway.

They entered a small examination room, and the nurse instructed him to strip down to his underwear and put on a hospital gown. She left the room after a brief moment, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the gown in his hands. He couldn’t shake the feeling of shame that crept up his neck. "This is ridiculous," he thought. "I should just turn around and leave. It’s just a little pain, right? It’ll go away eventually."

But the pain had only gotten worse, and he couldn't ignore it anymore. He had to do this.

Slowly, he undressed and slipped the gown on, tying it awkwardly at the back. He felt exposed—more so than he ever had in his life.

A few moments later, the door opened, and a young female doctor entered the room. She looked around his age, maybe a little younger. John immediately felt a flush of embarrassment.

"Hi, John. My name’s Dr. Thompson. I’m going to help you today," she said, her tone friendly and professional. "Can you tell me more about the pain you’ve been experiencing?"

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding her gaze. "Uh, it’s... it’s been hurting down there," he mumbled, gesturing vaguely toward his lower abdomen. "Mostly when I sit or move... I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s just... really painful."

Dr. Thompson nodded sympathetically. "Okay, thank you for sharing that with me. I’m going to need to perform a physical exam to better understand what’s going on. It may be a little uncomfortable, but I’ll guide you through the process, alright?"

John's heart sank. He had been expecting this moment, but hearing it out loud made it feel real. His mind was racing. Oh God, I can't believe this is happening. A doctor? A woman, no less? Why couldn't it be someone else?

"Alright," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Great," Dr. Thompson said, giving him a reassuring smile. "If you could please lie down on the exam table and lift your knees toward your chest, we’ll get started."

John hesitated for a moment, the sheer vulnerability of the position hitting him like a ton of bricks. But the pain was becoming unbearable, and there was no turning back now.

He lay down, his body stiff and his face burning with embarrassment. He had never felt so exposed in his life.

Dr. Thompson gently moved to the side and prepared some supplies. “I know this can feel awkward, but it’s important for me to check for any possible issues,” she explained in a calm voice, clearly aware of how sensitive the situation was.

As she worked, John couldn’t help but focus on how humiliated he felt. Why is this so hard? Why do I feel so... exposed? He was used to being in control, used to keeping things private, and here he was—completely out of his comfort zone.

Just breathe, he thought, trying to calm himself. It’s just a doctor. It’s just... necessary. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Dr. Thompson’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "John, I’m just going to apply some lubrication now to make the exam more comfortable for you. Just try to relax."

The word "relax" felt foreign, almost impossible. But he squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths, telling himself this was the best way to handle it. It was the only way.

After a few moments, the doctor completed the exam and stood back, giving him some space. “Okay, John. You’re doing great,” she said, smiling reassuringly. "I know this is uncomfortable, but you handled it really well. We're going to run some tests to figure out what's causing your pain. In the meantime, I’ll make sure we get you the right treatment."

John slowly exhaled, his body still tense. He couldn't believe it was over. He felt a wave of relief flood through him, though the shame and discomfort hadn't completely faded.

"Thank you," he said, his voice soft.

Dr. Thompson nodded. "You’re welcome. I know it’s hard, but I’m glad you came in. We’ll take care of you."

As she left the room, John stayed there for a moment, gathering himself. The worst was over. He had faced his fear, his embarrassment, and come through it. It wasn’t easy, but at least now, he could get the help he needed.

He couldn’t help but smile, just a little, as he thought to himself, That wasn’t so bad. It’s just part of getting better. I did it.

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This version focuses on John’s internal dialogue, his discomfort, and how he pushes through the vulnerability of the situation, ultimately finding relief and understanding that seeking help was the right choice. How does this version feel to you? Would you like to explore other aspects of the story?