We Should All Wear Signs

I took my 10-year old son to his annual checkup last week.  This is pretty much my least favorite thing to do as a parent.  In fact I only need one hand (and not all five fingers either) to accurately count how many doctor’s visits I’ve taken my two boys to over the last 13 years.  If I had to choose between changing a dirty diaper or taking my kid to the doctor, I’d pick the shit-filled diaper every time.  And if I had to choose between cleaning up vomit or taking my kid to the doctor, I’d pick the barf without hesitation.

Specifically, I hate going because both of my boys fear shots.  I mean they fear shots like I fear prison rape . . . . yes, I’ve watched way too much of MSNBC’s Lock-Up and HBO’s Oz . . . I can’t stop watching prison shows.

And it’s not the shot itself.  Sure no one likes getting stuck with a needle.  I don’t fault my kids for not liking a shot, but they get themselves so worked up BEFORE the actual shot enters the room that it basically makes the ENTIRE appointment a Mission Impossible-like challenge.  Now in all fairness, the doctor’s office needs to do a better job with its overall presentation of the shot.  Seriously, it is awful.  You’re about done with your visit.  You’ve been weighed.  You’ve been measured.  Your reflexes have been tested.  You’ve had a bright light flashed in your eyes.  You’ve had the doctor look down your throat and up your nose.  Hell, they’ve even grabbed your balls and asked you to cough.  You’re done.  You’re set.  Your clothes are back on.  Your shoes are laced up, and yet suddenly the door swings open and a nurse walks in carrying a small plastic tray with a single syringe on it.  She shows no emotion as she walks towards you.  She flashes no sign of regret as she rolls up your sleeve and dabs your arm with a cotton swab.  Her only advice . . . “Look Away.”

Good Lord.  It’s awful.  Sure the injection itself takes at best two seconds, but the pageantry leading up to it is as scary as . . . well . . . prison rape . . . okay, I need to stop watching prison shows.   But I think they’d be better off hiding the shot in a coat pocket, walking into the room, kicking the patient in the shin and then jabbing him with the syringe.  That literally may be a better option.

But since that’s not how they do it, and since you never know whether you’re scheduled to get a shot until that syringe is entering the room on that little plastic tray it’s all anticipation and dread.  In fact it’s the anticipation or the not knowing that makes it so awful.  My 10-year old was IN TEARS before the doctor had said “hello.”

However later, after we had left the doctor’s office WITHOUT getting a shot, I started thinking about anticipation, and I started to wonder whether we’d all be better off if we were in the know.  No more anticipation.  No more hype.  No more guessing.  Just give me the cold, hard truth.  I think we’d all be better off.  Maybe we should all just walk around wearing signs to let others know what is coming.

For instance I think my wife should come home each night with a sign around her neck that said “Babe, you’re not getting laid tonight.”  Or “Babe, tonight we’re going to do the Humpty Dumpty Dance.”  Let’s take the guess work out of it.  I know it would save me A LOT of frustration if I knew ahead of time whether I was having sex or not.  Instead, as it is, I continue to hold out hope each and every night that THIS is the night.  And as a result most of my nights are spent flying around the house barking out orders and getting things done just so that I can make it into my bedroom in time for A SHOT at sex.  I’m yelling out commands to the boys reminding them to shower and to brush their teeth.  I’m getting the dog out one last time.  I’m locking doors and turning off lights.  I’m trying to achieve the optimal temperature in my bedroom by fiddling with the thermostat a good 30 minutes before my wife actually enters the bedroom (I still haven’t figured out exactly what that “optimal sex temperature” is but I know my chances to get laid have been thwarted on more than one occasion by having the room too hot or too cold . . . . seriously the excuses this woman comes up with to NOT have sex with me are amazing and continue to grow) and of course I’m banging out push-ups in the bathroom .  What, am I the only one doing this?  Come on . . . . a quick 50 push-ups . . . . okay, maybe 40 . . . . fine, 25 . . . . can’t hurt my chances, right?  But more often than not this whole “night time routine” is nothing more than an exercise in futility.  Now if she’d just let me know ahead of time whether this was or was not “my lucky night,” I could relax a bit more.

Or wouldn’t it be nice if your boss would let you know ahead of time whether or not you had a realistic shot at getting a raise BEFORE you actually walked into your performance review??  Wouldn’t it be fantastic if your boss wore a sign around his neck that said “You have a slim to none chance of getting a raise today, and slim just left the building.”  Or “Good news, I’m going to increase your salary today, so relax and get that nervous, constipated look off your face.”  Wouldn’t that be great?  I mean I’ve personally walked into a performance review thinking I was in line for a raise only to get laid off.  Talk about not knowing.  Enough.  No more.  Just let me know ahead of time.  Hell, I could have had my desk cleared out BEFORE the actual review meeting had I just known.  Instead I had to do the ultimate walk of shame back to my office, in front of all my coworkers, clean my desk out, turn in my office key, and then walk out the door.  Yeah that whole unfortunate event could have been avoided had my boss just given me a head’s up BEFORE HAND.

And think about how much embarrassment and agony and rejection we could save young teenage boys if young teenage girls just wore signs around their necks letting boys know whether or not they had any realistic shot at asking them out.  Now yes, I will admit that I think most teenage boys should have at least SOME idea of whether they’re aiming a bit high in regards to asking out certain girls, but remember we are talking about teenage boys.  They’re not real bright, so sometimes the math geek honestly thinks he’s got a shot at the head cheerleader.  He doesn’t, and he should know this, but despite having a 4.0 GPA, he’s still not real bright.  So he needs some help in order to avoid the embarrassing and sad reality that he’s never going to date the head cheerleader . . . at least not until he starts his own software company . . . at which time he probably just needs to wear a sign around his neck saying “I own my own software company” . . . but maybe that’s what a Ferrari is for . . . I don’t know?  But why not have that cheerleader wear a sign that said “Unless you’re the starting QB, don’t ask.”  Or “I’m trying to make the starting QB jealous, so I’ll go out with you once or twice.”  I’m just saying something like this could probably save teenage boys a lot of sleepless nights.

Even an “I’ve had a bad day” sign would be helpful for me to understand why a neighbor doesn’t want to chat.  Otherwise, I might think that I did something to offend them.  Which is also totally possible, by the way.  I could wear a “my dog doesn’t like most other dogs” sign when walking my dog to discourage other dog owners from bringing their friendly dogs over to us to sniff and play, only to have Rocky growl and attack.  Just think about the possibilities!

In the end I will admit that part of what makes life fun and interesting is the anticipation or the hype or the build-up.  So doing away with ALL anticipation is definitely not what I’m suggesting.  My mailman doesn’t need to walk around with a sign saying “Your new Playboy is not in today’s mail, just bills.”  That anticipation of the new Playboy is what keeps me going to the mailbox.  But maybe we could develop a sign-wearing system for other things.  Just like traffic signals for daily life.  I like that.  And my youngest could have avoided a total meltdown at the doctor’s office for no reason.