UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL

Me: So we missed you last week at our speaker program.

Dr. C.: Ah, I know. I generally do like to come, but the topic was focused on men’s health and that has nothing to do with my practice.

Me (laughing): No, no it doesn’t. Our program in June has to do with breast cancer though, so I hope we’ll see you there.

Dr. C.: Absolutely! Okay, IUD looks good . . . Now this speculum is going to add a little bit more pressure . . . a-and . . .there! The hard part’s done.

Yup. That’s right. That dialogue is an example of what it’s like to be a drug rep and be a patient of doctors that you call on. A gynecology patient. There you are: on your back, feet in stirrups, privates no longer private, and having a conversation about speakers and disease states.

Some drug reps won’t be a patient of any of the physicians in their call panel. Too personal, they say. Too private, they say. (What are you hiding? I say—Okay, but not really; I do understand their position.)

I take the opposite view. I visit 10-12 doctors a day, which means that I get to know them, their staff, and what it’s like behind the scenes in their particular office. And that means that I am a little more educated than I once was when it comes to picking a personal physician. I like the idea of being the patient of a doctor that I’ve pre-screened for myself.

There are times though when the possibility of things getting awkward with a doctor I’ve seen as a patient makes calling on them a little bit more interesting. For example . . .

I am not shy about saying that I have had a colonoscopy. Yes, while the baby boomers are following Katie Couric’s example and going through their routine screening, I—at 25—am able to speak intelligently with them about what it’s like to be hopped up and have a snake-like camera slithered into your bottom.

The nature of my profession makes it such that talking about innards and the like is old hat, not horrible. What can make things kind of interesting is when you call on the doctor who scoped you (did your colonoscopy). Ah, greetings Dr. N! Don’t remember me? Oh, well how about I give you a different view . . . perhaps then you’ll remember.

Providentially, it wasn’t like that when I called on my personal gastroenterologist the week after he inspected my colon via video feed, though I wasn't sure how to act. Do I talk about it? (Hey Doc, smooth scopin' last week; I didn't feel a thing!) Do I ignore it and avoid eye contact? And would our earlier, ahem, interaction alter our business exchange?

Outwardly, no, it didn’t change anything, but I’ll bet there are some doctors who would have looked at me and giggled to themselves: Ha! I’ve seen you in the most compromising of positions. Do come to call on me any old time, as I can always use a good laugh.