Aaahhh…it’s cooled down to a brisk 85 degrees, so my brain is once again capable of composing complete sentences.
This morning, I had a physical exam check out for my pelvic assessment class. Last summer, the physical exam check out was totally stressful for everyone, 20 minutes of torture graded by a stern TA who would ding you for the smallest infraction. For example, I got graded down for checking the thyroid from the front instead of the back, even though our teacher totally said that was OK! DAMN YOU, STICKLER TA.
Anyway. This physical exam was for my pelvic assessment class, which I am totally jazzed about. The teacher is a midwife, with exactly that relaxed, vaguely hippie-ish vibe to her that I really like in a women’s health provider. She went over with us on Tuesday what we’d be expected to do this morning, and seemed very chill about it. “You can do the Homan’s sign if you want, but you don’t really have to,” for instance. Nice. The emphasis was clearly on the breast exam, with the rest of the physical being more of a chance to establish rapport with our patients and make them feel good about their bodies. I liked her suggestion that the patient always be in control of her gown instead of the provider just walking up and exposing whatever area she needs to look at.
After practicing with my partner on Friday and writing myself a little script this weekend, I was pretty calm about the whole thing, and this morning even wondered if I was being too nonchalant. Since we had a really limited window of time, my partner and I both gowned up, so I was conducting my exam in a crappy hospital gown. It was even weirder than normal gowns, and had these weird snaps on the shoulders. We both struggled to find a good way to tie our gowns to keep them closed. And of course, within the first couple minutes of the exam, my boob almost completely popped out of said gown. I totally rolled with it though, and made a joke about making the patient more comfortable, while our teacher laughed. She was like, “Wouldn’t it be great if providers had their breasts out too?”
So despite that false start, at the end of both our exams, our teacher told us we’d both done a beautiful job, and that we’d both “super passed.” Woot! Apparently now I’m ready to be a professional boob feeler.
