Going the doctor can be awkward in itself, but throw in a case for embarrassment and it makes it so much worse. These Quora users shared the most embarrassing thing that has happened to them while at the doctor. Content has been edited for clarity.
At Least It’s Working
“I was 15 years old and during a school PE lesson I got hit in the nuts extremely hard by a cricket ball. I doubled over in agony and couldn’t straighten at all, upon inspection of the area I discovered that they were swollen and severely bruised. The school called my mom and to accident and emergency I went.
After waiting a while I was called into the doctors’ office by a nurse and my mom came in with me (as I was under 16 I had to be accompanied by a parent/guardian) I couldn’t believe it when the doctor turned out to be a female. I sat (rather gingerly) and explained what happened. The doctor asked to see them, now this was embarrassing enough. Getting my stuff out in front of my mom but as the doctor was examining them I made a huge mistake – I glanced over at the nurse.
Now remember that I was 15, raging with hormones and even the hint of a female’s chest was enough to get me excited and with a female doctor examining my privates as well I couldn’t help it but my body took over and even though I was in pain, I got a little too excited. I tried to make it go but nothing I tried worked. I was stood there in the doctor’s office with my mom sitting in the chair next to me, the nurse standing in the corner and a female doctor examining my balls and I had the biggest pointer I’d ever had.
The doctor smiled at me and said something like ‘Well at least it’s working.’
I was incredibly embarrassed, my mom just found it hilarious.”
“I’m serious, this actually happened to me with the doctor who actually delivered me 16 years earlier.
I was 16, with my first boyfriend for over a year, and my mom (being intuitive as moms are) took me to get birth control for the first time.
We sat down with him and, with me already a little embarrassed, my mom explained what we were there for.
He sits with his glasses on the tip of his nose and his hands folded on his desk in silence for a few seconds staring at me.
‘Ok, so…’ he says as he pulls out a blank piece of paper and a pen.
I kid you not this man straight up draws a male’s member
He starts asking me questions about my boyfriend. He’s in the military, I said, together for over a year, etc.
He then puts several Xs on the drawing.
I kid you not he launches into an epic narrative where my boyfriend gets shipped to the South Pacific, sleeps with 20 island women, and then contracts all of these diseases, as indicated by the Xs. He’s doing this while holding the drawing up and pointing very educationally.
‘He then lies to you and all of these Xs are your problem now,’ he ends the narrative with. ‘So yeah, we’ll get you on birth control but also…use protection. Men are stupid.’
Within a few minutes, he had asked me all the awkward questions, sketched my boyfriend’s member, and narrated exactly how I would get cheated on.
My mom thought it was absolutely hysterical.
To be honest, I really appreciated it. To be young, stupid, and ‘in love’ is so dangerous. More girls need to hear things like this.”
Can’t Help It!
“After my husband and I worked unusually hard in the back yard, I woke up the next morning with tenderness in my left chest area. It was visibly larger than the right one. I was in a panic thinking the worst of course.
We were new in the area, and I had to find a doctor. I grabbed a telephone book and called the first doctor listed on the page. He was an M.D. and also listed under the osteopathy page (whatever osteopathy meant). I was a young newlywed and saw the initials, M.D. Those were the initials I was looking for and understood in 1985. Thank goodness, the doctor was able to see me that very same day!
I arrived at the clinic and the nurse checked my vital signs. She asked a few questions, and I told her about my tenderness. She said to undress from the waist up and told me that the doctor would be in shortly.
The doctor walked in…a short and slim type of fellow. He looked at my chest for some time and jotted notes on his clipboard. I was nervous and scared as he did the normal women’s exam. He asked what I had done the day before in the yard. He was a serious man lacking any sort of bedside manner, and I felt very shy, to say the least, discussing my chest in front of this doctor.
This straight forward man asked if my husband and I had done anything unusual in the sensual sense. I felt my face get hot with embarrassment and with emphasis, I said, NO! He jotted more notes (would have liked to have seen those notes). He said I was too young to have a mammogram, but he would order the test as he wasn’t sure what my problem was.
He was about to leave and with relief, I pulled my top closer to me. Before he opened the door to leave, he looked at me and walked towards me saying he was going to try something. He instructed me to cross my arms in front of my chest, and he slowly lowered me down on the table. I knew my heart was about to jump out of my chest. I stared up at him eyes wide as he quickly jumped and hurled all his weight upon my crossed arms.
This move reminded me of a human karate chop! Had this doctor gone insane on me? Didn’t this happen only in the movies? I remember seeing his high top tennis shoes dangling off the side of the table as he laid sideways on top of my crossed arms. I had never had a reason to visit an osteopath or a chiropractor. I knew nothing about back or neck adjustments.
I heard a loud crack in my back and the unimaginable happened … I passed gas and grunted! I was horrified and knew I would die on the table from embarrassment. My left girl would be of no importance after that day.
This serious doctor almost looked amused and said, ‘You have a pinched nerve in your back. Your chest will be the same size tomorrow morning.’
That kid song… ‘the thigh bone is connected to the hip bone…’ was ringing in my head as I got dressed.
He was right. They were the same size the next day. And 30 years later, I still want to smile when I see the initials D.O. or the word osteopath, as I am reminded of that particular doctor’s visit long ago!”
“I was having a physical done when this happened. A nurse was testing my eyesight and tells me to cover my left eye and read the letters off the poster, then cover the other eye. She then proceeded to tell me, ‘Okay now let’s try both.’ I was befuddled but my immediate reaction was to proceed to cover both my eyes. She and all the other nurses died of laughter and later clarified by saying, ‘I meant look with both eyes.’ Boy was I embarrassed.”
Awkward As Can Be
“Enter 14 year old me. I had just become active with my first ‘real’ boyfriend and my no-nonsense father who was not impressed, but would rather I was safe than pregnant, wanted to bring me to a doctor to get on birth control. My mother was 100% unsupportive and I would never have been honest with her about my activity so she was not a part of this process.
In the doctor’s office (walk in) with my dad. I am asking the doctor if the birth control shot would be an option as it seems easier than taking a pill every day. The doctor looks at my father and asks,
‘Have you tried wearing a sheath?’
Dad: ‘… I’m her father…’
I swear to god it was silent in the room for five minutes. I wanted to disappear.
We never spoke of it again.
There you have it.”
Three Times The Embarrassment
“I was getting a women’s exam and the doctor had me stand while she was examining my chest. Her office was on the top floor but I could easily see activity on the street below. I am tall and towered over the curtains. I asked the doctor if there was privacy glass on the windows and she said she didn’t know. I was her first patient that was taller than the curtains. Right then two street workers stopped and looked up at us and pointed and laughed.
Another embarrassing moment was when I was having a pelvic exam and the doctor said everything looked wonderful. Not really knowing how to respond I gave him the thumbs up sign and he then told me I had a very pretty uterus. I started laughing because I thought he said something that rhymes but not the same.
The next embarrassing moment was I was at a chiropractor’s Office receiving physical therapy (ultrasound) on my neck. I had to wear a gown. The doctor was very professional when he stepped out I tossed off the gown to change when a man with one arm came in and stared at me. I looked at him for a full second or two and said I’m still changing in here (not sure what the mix-up was) he smiled and told me I had a very pretty chest. I felt like Rachel on Friends—it’s okay, I’ve got a nice rack.”
Relax, It’s Not What You Think
“I believe I was sixteen at the time. I had gone in for keyhole surgery and was due to be put under anesthetic. So I sat down with the surgeon and he told me the biggest risk was that a blood vessel may be nicked which could cause problematic bleeding, and potentially be fatal, as he has to check I consent to that risk. He also explained I would go in, get put under, spend a few hours in the operating theater, and would finally wake up back on ward.
So a few hours later I wake up, I get checked over by a doctor, he informs me everything went well, and finally it’s time to get moved to a ward. I get checked on every few hours, and a day or two passed. It was time for me to get up on my feet, and so I am moved to a chair next to the bed, and the nurses leave as I let my head settle for a few moments. Maybe 5 minutes later, an attractive blond nurse, who had previously attended to me the night prior, comes in and walks straight over to me.
Now this is where it got a little strange. As I am approached, she asks me how I am doing, and proceeds to get down on her knees by me, one arm placed casually across my knee.
‘A strange way to greet someone’ I thought, for a brief moment I looked away as the confusion set in. My eyes snap back to the nurse and I notice her arms now under my gown, and I feel her hands on a certain appendage. At this point it was like time slowed down, I analyzed the situation, and as an excitable 16-year old, with the age-old fantasy of an attractive nurse being a little too friendly happening there and then, I almost concluded it was a dream.
I must have been distracted for all of half a second before I realized I was indeed awake, and this was happening.
‘What on earth is going on, was there something I missed?’ I briefly thought, noticing the nurse’s eyes were moving up to meet mine. The look of shock must have been in my eyes, as she immediately gasped, quickly unhanded myself, and started handing out apology after apology. ‘Did they not tell you?’ she asks, I have no idea what she is on about.
Turns out one detail I wasn’t informed of before surgery, was that I wouldn’t be all that sane in the head for the first few days, due to the host of painkillers being injected into me. So a catheter was inserted without my realizing. Obviously when I was messed up like mad following the initial surgery, I hadn’t given any thought to the reason I wasn’t going to the bathroom.
She realizes I had no idea a tube was up me, and so she explains to me what she was doing. Realizing now that she effectively strode into a patients room, greeted them, and then fondled an unsuspecting man’s appendage.
Why no one felt the need to inform me that this would be used, prior to the surgery, or even before they were about to take it out, still baffles me.”
“It Was Like A Tilt-A-Whirl!”
“In 1995, I had a kidney stone. It had to be removed by this thing that went up my member, past my urethra and then opened up Alien-style and broke the stone to bits. I was awake for this, with just local anesthesia. There was blood, well, wherever. I couldn’t see or feel anything. A young nurse came in and I knew from how she had hooked my IV up earlier that she was new or inexperienced.
This was out-patient surgery. I was wheeled back to my room. I would be allowed to leave after I went to the bathroom. The young nurse took a piece of gauze off my member, soaked in blood. She explained it was so no blood dripped on me or the floor.
I tried to pee. They gave me soup and tiny cans of Jolly Good lemon-lime soda. Up and down the hallway, you would hear men burping or farting. I read a book and eventually the anesthesia wore off. But I still couldn’t pee. I drank about six cans of the pop and also had six tiny bowls of soup. I was even burping and still could not pee.
After two hours, they asked my doctor to come and look at my member. He lifted my gown (something I never thought to do) and we both were surprised to see three rubber bands wrapped around everything. They were what kept the gauze in place. The doctor waited as the inexperienced nurse took the rubber bands off, which hurt a bit as the anesthesia had worn off. (I had no intention of even touching those rubber bands.) I knew what was going to happen, but didn’t ask for an empty pitcher or something because I was trying not to fidget as the rubber bands slowly came off of my boys. The doctor was ready to reprimand the nurse when…
My bladder exploded, my member was like a Tilt-A-Whirl and the cans of pop and soup shot out of me, soaking my doctor (who wore glasses), the nurse, the door, me, the bed, and a mirror. The doctor and nurse had moved away, but I took a guess that I peed for more than a minute. Maybe into the hallway.
The nurse was very flustered, I told her I wasn’t in pain from her mistake (I lied) and said something dopey like ‘Things happen.’ I was released after being given a towel to wash my lower half off. The room had then been closed while it was cleaned and sanitized. (I saw the nurse during a follow-up visit, so I know she hadn’t been fired and I was happy about that.)
I still think about that doctor’s glasses and how he had to clean them and wondered if he ever thought about them having been peed on every time he was wearing them.”
Not The Best Time To Be Into A Doctor
“I had this terrible pain on the side of my stomach. I went to the urgent care nearby. They did many tests, one of them being an x-ray of my stomach area. The person doing the x-ray was this really attractive, hip-looking guy. We were chatting and laughing while he performed the x-ray.
Afterward, he asked if I wanted to look at the x-ray with him. I said sure. I was diggin’ this guy and we were having a good time, so I wanted to spend more time with him.
As we were looking at the x-ray, he said, ‘Oh..’
I said, ‘So, what do you see?’
He pointed at the x-ray, moving his finger all along my intestine area and said, ‘You see all this?’
I said, ‘yeaah….’, getting nervous.
He said, ‘That’s all POOP.’
Oh. My. God. My face got HOT. I was mortified. He said, ‘That’s the reason your stomach is hurting. You gotta poop real bad. You need to eat some salad or something.’
Even now, thinking about it, …. ugh… awful!”
At Least They Were Ready To Go?
“I had to visit a hospital for a checkup because it was mandatory in the new organization that I was joining.
I generally avoid hospital visits unless I’m bleeding to death because I’m not a very astute individual and only ended up here since I didn’t have any other option.
Following a series of tests where I had to take my clothes off in some (ECG, physical exam), I was led to my final test where I had to take an X-ray. As I was waiting in the room, a male doctor came up to me and handed me something that resembled a hospital dress gown. He asked me to change into it and left the room.
I didn’t think much of it and took off my t-shirt and jeans. The hospital dress gown, however, seemed a little too short and bordered just below my stomach. Considering you’re not supposed to have any shame around your doctor, I let it be and waited for him to come back in.
I had a simple test where I just had to rest my face against an apparatus and didn’t have to lie down. The procedure took a whole two minutes and as the doctor was leaving the room, he said:
‘Why did you have to take your pants off? I never asked you to.’
I stood there, rooted to the spot, and flushed a deep shade of maroon as I absorbed what he just said to me. Before I could figure how I could bury myself into the ground, he left the room leaving me in the company of my mantling embarrassment.
The next time I visit a doctor, I’m going to remember to always ask what they want me to take off before I make that assumption myself.”
The Already Doctor Recognized This Patient
“We invited our son-in-laws family to our home in Bhubaneswar.
It is customary in our families to invite them for the first festival after daughter’s wedding.
I was in a cleanliness spree. In a fit of that spree I used many chemicals.
Bleaching powder to make white bed sheets more white. Colin spray to clean show case glasses and many more.
One of them was turpentine which I used for diluting varnish paint.
You may be wondering what was I doing with varnish paint. I painted muggulu(rangoli) in the corridor.
So I cleaned my hands with turpentine to get away the paint stains on my right hand.
By evening there were some small boils on my right hand.
By next morning, entire right hand got rashes and it slightly swelled.
By the evening it swelled so much, that it became triple the size and very heavy with severe itching.
Relatives were arriving in two days. And with this hand, leave alone cooking, I would not be able to do any thing.
We rushed to a dermatologist.
It was diagnosed as severe allergy. Doctor told that had we delayed for another day, it would have been life threatening.
He asked if I had used any new chemicals. I listed all the chemicals, turpentine being the last.
He said the allergy might be due to turpentine, and advice never touch turpentine in future.
Fast forward two years…
The rangoli in the corridor faded away. My hand was itching to repaint it.
I decided to paint, wearing gloves.
The rangoli turned out be beautiful but my hand turned out to be worst.
It did not even take half day for the hand to swell triple its size.
We again rushed to the Doctor.
I thought the doctor will never remember me because it was almost two years when I visited him last time, and the doctor was one of the busiest doctors.
But the doctor did recognize me (I think mine was a rare case for him).
‘Are you the person who came few years back with the same complaint? Did you use varnish paint again?’
‘Yes doctor. But I wore gloves this time.’
‘But you should be very careful while removing the gloves. There is a chance that it may touch your skin while removing. That is what happened to you.’
‘I told you specifically not to touch that paint. But you did not listen. You educated people think that you know more than what doctor knows.’
I kept quiet. I was really embarrassed.
Later while leaving, doctor apologized for his harsh words and told that he scolded because it was very dangerous.
So every one, please be careful with chemicals if you notice any allergy for any chemical.”
Don’t Blame Her For Asking!
“I was an 18-year-old nursing student, scheduled to spend time in the operating room observing various surgeries, so I would have an appreciation of what my patients endured.
I had never witnessed a surgery before in my life, and was sent to watch an open-heart coronary bypass procedure—-with zero preparation. This surgery replaces clogged blood vessels that supply the heart itself with blood, using vessels from other parts of the body.
So there I was, standing in an operating room that seemed like a scene from a science-fiction movie. The patient was a violin player, around 65 or 70 years old. The procedure started with a very difficult intubation, which is the process of inserting a breathing tube into the trachea (windpipe) that is then attached to a respirator, since the patient won’t be breathing on their own under general anesthesia. (Patients are already unconscious at this point.)
After that was straightened out, the surgeon pulled out a circular saw— the kind you would see in a wood shop— and proceeded to cut through the patient’s sternum, which is the bony plate that covers the middle of the chest cavity that the ribs are attached to. The patient’s sternum and ribs were pulled apart and held open with retractors, exposing his heart.
After that he was given an injection of potassium, which stopped his heart. There was nothing but a flat line on the monitor. His heart wasn’t beating any longer, but it was still necessary to have oxygenated blood flowing to perfuse his brain, organs, and everything else. So they cut through a major vessel that lead to his heart and attached it to a bypass machine, which would oxygenate his blood and pump it back into his body while the surgeon worked on his heart. Apparently this is a very stressful time during open-heart surgery! And the surgeon and perfusionist yelled loudly at each other for a minute until the patient was safely connected.
At that point, the surgeon turned to me and asked, ‘Do you have any questions?’
And I said, ‘Yes. Is this guy really going to live through this?’ It looked to me as if I had just witnessed a very high-tech murder.
My question got quite a laugh from the surgeon and the entire surgical team! I was very happy I was wearing a mask.
(The patient did indeed live and he looked forward to playing his violin again).”