Hot for Doctor

When I got to work yesterday morning after writing about my hip flexor, I decided I would schedule an appointment with my orthopedic doctor. It's not every person that can say they have an orthopedic doctor without getting a referral from the PCP, right? Well, I'm kind of special. No, not really, but two years ago when I tore a tendon in my ankle playing tennis (can you say klutz?) I had to get an orthopedic doctor.

Can I just preface the rest of this post by saying one thing: "I love my husband."

Dr. Scott, my ortho doc, is one fine specimen of a man. David, my husband, was asked to attend this appointment next Tuesday morning with me in case the doctor asks me any questions that I can't quite think of the answers to because I can't get my tongue back in my mouth and stop drooling all over myself. When we went to lunch we were talking about my appointment (next Tuesday at 8:00 a.m.) and David said, "so you're going to see Dr. McHotPants, right?"

Not, these two guys:

McDreamy and McSteamy

But, McHotPants. Now - I'm sure that Dr. Scott (who is married, btw) has some great legs and would look great in some hot pants, but when your husband refers to your doctor (and those big blue eyes like Frank Sinatra's *sigh*) without a hint of jealousy in his voice, you realize what a great man you have. I did ask David to come to the doctor with me for the reason above, but there's two other reasons: I want him to be along in case I have to hear any bad news, and, well, the hip flexor is in an area that is, you know, near my hip...

Anyway - I'm going to see the doctor on Tuesday and I'm going to have to be ready to hear anything. I'll post when I know something. My question for you is: Do you have a hot doctor and does it make it difficult for you to remember all the things that are wrong when you are face to face with him/her?

Oh yeah - here's a proof of me running across the finish line at the race on Sunday! 

 

Soooo, serious.

Here's to you, King Dick the Lionheart, for understanding that a woman that might look at another man and get a little dribble on her chin, but still pines for you and your noisy morning antics.