The call finally came. Jack had gotten it. The Fulbright Fellowship to study in Switzerland. School had always been fun for Jack. Yes, he worked hard, but he did well in his courses and enjoyed learning. His major, Chemistry, was not a particularly easy one, but he did well.
Applying for the Fulbright was a natural next step. He had always wanted to study abroad, but had never had a chance to because of his busy course schedule. Now, however, he would have a full year in Switzerland, funded by the government.
After calling his parents to share the exciting news, Jack read through the details of the notification letter. It had the usual details and requirements - passport, health insurance form, and list of expectations for Fulbrighters. Noticing that a physical was required Jack sighed, though he was well overdue. His last physical was almost four years ago, he couldn't quite remember exactly when, with his old pediatrician at home.
He had been required to get a physical before starting college. Now he was 22 though, and it was time for him to go to a doctor for "real" adults. Well, no hurry. There was plenty of time.
Three weeks later: The Fulbright forms were due in a week, and Jack had not yet made his appointment. He hadn't forgotten. The busy-ness of his last semester of college combined with his unease of a physical with a new doctor, and he had not gotten around to making the appointment.
Dialing the number for the on-campus health clinic, he requested an appointment for a physical. Hearing that he did not have a regular doctor and needed a physical quickly, the receptionist made appointment with Dr. Sturgeon for 4pm that day.
Jack's perspective:
I arrived at the health clinic 15 minutes early as instructed. The receptionist, who was rather cute, gave me a friendly smile. She looked vaguely familiar too. Maybe she was in my organic chemistry class a couple of years ago?
Taking the forms, I looked back at her as I took a seat. A bobbed haircut, blonde, probably about five and half feet tall, though it was hard to tell while she was sitting down. Her name tag said her name was Kimberley.
I tried to sneak a look at her chest without getting caught. She had on a purple v-neck sweater. Her breasts were smaller but still quite appealing under the tight sweater. I blushed deeply as she caught me looking and smiled at me.
Turning my attention to the forms, I started filling them out. They started with the usual medical questions - family history, when was your last exam, amount of exercise, etc. All of that was pretty normal. Do you drink? Not much at all. Drugs? No.
The next set of questions made me pause. Are you sexually active? I blushed a bit as I answered "No." I only had one girlfriend in college at all, and that was a couple of years ago. I was too focused on my courses.
The next set of questions made me blush a bit more as I answered them. Have you had vaginal intercourse? "Yes." If yes, with how many partners? "One." Have you had oral sex? "Yes." I had done that with Julie a few times. Do you always use condoms? "Yes." I guess that is the right answer even though it had been two years. Have you had sexual intercourse with someone of the same sex? "No."
Signing the form I paused for a minute and took a deep breath before bringing it back to the receptionist. She gave me a curious smile as she took the form from me and quickly glanced over it. Nodding a couple of times she looked up and asked me to have a seat until the nurse called me back.
I fidgeted nervously as I waited for the doctor. The receptionist worked diligently answering the phone, making appointments, and checking people in. I stole looks at her when I thought I could do it without her seeing. She seemed to have a natural grace to her, even working in the clinic.
And of course I kept glancing at her chest. She caught me looking once and smiled sweetly at me. It took me a moment to notice that she had seen me looking, and I blushed brightly as I soon as I realized she caught me looking. She gave me an amused smile and went back to her work on the computer.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, the nurse called me back. I smiled nervously at Kimberley as I followed the nurse through the door into the back. She was a bit shorter then me and reminded me a bit of my mother - medium build, shoulder-length brown hair, and hint of a smile on her face.
Following her I couldn't help but notice her bum. It had been a while since I had been around an older woman, and her bum was different than the college students I usually snuck glances at as I walked behind them. While theirs often looked toned and tight under their yoga pants, the nurse's looked, well, like the bum of a woman who was in her probably late 40s and had a busy life and children. She wasn't fat or out of shape. Her bum was just more shapely under her scrubs.
As we turned left down a hall she suddenly stopped said "Shoes off and on the scale please" and then turned around, facing me. I blushed again as she had clearly caught me looking down at her bum. She sighed slightly and repeated "Step on the scale please" as she saw me hesitate.
Slipping my shoes off, I stepped on the scale and waited while she adjusted the slides. Making a note on a chart I hadn't noticed she pointed to a wall with a measuring device mounted on it, mumbling "150 pounds." I stepped against the wall and she adjusted the indicator, leaning in and up a bit to make sure it was resting on the top of my head.