How to Humiliate Leslie

Not so long ago, a friend asked me, "Leslie, what embarrasses you?", to which I proudly scoffed, "Ha! Practically nothing! Not penises or vaginas! Not skidmarks or skidrow! You just bring it on, mister, bring-it-on!"

Have you ever heard the phrase, "be careful of what you wish for"? Well I apparently, I hadn't.

This Monday my doctor called and left a voicemail:

"Hi Leslie, this is Dr. R. I just wanted to let you know that your blood test results came back and nothing changed, so you don't have an acute case of Mono...Oh by the way, my daughter did a search of my name and she stumbled upon your blog. It said something like 'I love my doctor' and I just wanted to let you know that it was very sweet of you."

My doctor read my blog? My DOCTOR? Read my BLOG?

A billion thoughts passed through my mind. Which blog? (Yes I have more than one. And no I won't tell you about the other one, that would defeat the purpose of having a private blog, wouldn't it?) And what entry did he read? What did I say? Did he read anything else? Oh my god oh my god oh-my-god!

I jumped onto a computer and googled his name. On the second page, I saw what his daughter saw. I was horrified. I was mortified. I was horribly and utterly horrimortikified.

I'm normally a sweet, composed, innocent little girl. (Jason would say differently but don't believe a word he says. I deny EVERYTHING.) But on the day of that entry, I'd just come back from my first visit to the doctor...a visit that involved a rectal examination. I was also reeling and venting from a series of excruciatingly frustrating events and my mouth was not so innocent.

SO. Not only did he read about my "rectal squeeze", he read all my curses, AND he read the part about my "crush"...which was a JOKE, but he doesn't know me THAT well, so he might have thought I was serious. To make it WORSE, all the entries sandwiching that one was about farting, pooping, and there was a line about Jason grabbing my ass.

In review, my married, jovial doctor whom I see ALL the time now thinks I have a crush on him AND he thinks I'm a dirty little girl AND he's probably replaying my first visit in his mind to figure out if I really did give him a rectal squeeze. My doctor. Is thinking. About my anus.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Has anyone ever died of humiliation? If not, can I be the first one?!

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Dr. Rissover, if you're reading this, you should know that unless I'm talking about death, you should take everything I say with a grain of salt...the size of Mt. Everest. By the way, you are a fantastic doctor, and even if you don't have a prescription for utter humiliation, I forgive you.

If this is Dr. Rissover's daughter, hello! I hear you like monkeys. Your father always tells me this because I always bring in a little journal with a pink monkey on it. I'm really not this crazy. Well okay I AM this crazy but I'm really very harmless...just a little gassy.