It started like any other weekday. The only difference is this is the day you have to take that physical for the new insurance plan at the office.

Actually, that’s not such a bad idea. It’s a beautiful day and it will be nice to get out of the office and into the fresh air for awhile.

You may your way across town to the doctors office and it looks like your luck will hold, there’s only two other patients in the waiting room. So you grab a magazine and have a seat. Just as you finish catching up on the latest trends in new cars, the nurse calls your name.

You don the latest and greatest creation from “Armani” and try and hold the back together as you follow the nurse down the hall for your chest x-ray. Next is the lab where a pleasant young lady who looks nothing like “Vampira” sucks enough blood from your to satisfy Count Dracula!

You breeze through the rest. . .the dreaded little jar with the tape on top, standing on one foot and pointing at your nose and finally you’re guided back to the exam room where you started. You have a seat on the table and the crisp white paper crinkles as you shift to get comfortable.

Just as you are retrieving your magazine, the door opens and in walks the Doc. He’s pretty cool, for an older guy. He gave you your first shot as a kid. Doc flips through your chart, asks how the wife and kids are doing, and pulls out his stethoscope.

Deep breath, in and out, in and out. Next it’s the ears and mouth. Everything looks great says Doc. Finally he turns to the counter top and pulls out a surgical glove. “Uh, oh, can’t we just skip that part Doc,” you ask with a grin. Doc just chuckles and tells you to “assume the position.”

Suddenly, the room grows very quiet. Doc seems to be taking an awfully long time. Doc straighten, snaps off the glove and asks you to take a seat. By the time you get seated he is scribbling copious notes on your chart. He clears his throat and says, “Joe, we’ve got a bit of a problem here. Now we won’t know more until we run some tests, but I’ve got some concerns about your prostate.”

Stunned, you barely hear his voice rattling off a list of instructions. Finally, it hits you. “Wait a minute, Doc. There must be some mistake, I can’t have any prostate trouble, geesh, I’m only 38 years old!”

He stops writing and gives you his full attention. “Joe, your prostate is abnormally enlarged. We won’t know what that means until we’ve conducted further tests. Let’s get them taken care of and we’ll meet again to discuss treatment options. Oh, it might be a good idea to bring Kathy along for that visit.”