I saw another of my doctors today, is what

It wasn't until I made a joke about it to one of my prior doctors was that awkward, uncomfortable moment turned just awkward.

When you're in a grocery store and your doctor walks by, is she totally looking at you and thinking, "Oh, God, now that was one horrible case of the eebie-jeebies." Or whatever technical term is hot now.

"So, what do you do?" she asked a few months ago, putting on a glove. Snap.

Always at this moment of the exam I consider lying. I will talk about my embarrassing symptoms and I will be completely honest about it. But my job? People either hate their local newpaper or think it's utterly cool to work on something that lands on other people's porches and lines bird and hamster cages. It really is that cool.

"I'm, uh, a journalist," I say, putting my cold hands under my paper-gown-covered legs.

"Oh, really, where?"

"The Northwestern." (Like how I plugged our Web site there? I'm relentless. Ha.)

"Reeeeally." The doctor never says if "reeeeally" is good or bad, or if they don't actually work in Oshkosh and thus have no idea what I'm talking about. Also likely.

"Yeah."

"I always think that someone's going to write about their doctor visit."

"I'm always afraid you'll think of some weird symptom I had when I see you in public."

Touche, we both thought.

"I promise I won't write about it. It doesn't make for very good breakfast topics."

"And I promise I see enough of these that I'm not even thinking about who you are."

Still, when I saw my latest doctor/nurse today, I walked by with my head down. Just in case this one has a great memory.