An apple a day might keep him away

By John Christian Hopkins
News From Indian Country 4-09

So I went to the doctor the other day for a routine check-up. Not that I’m ill. In fact, I’m proud to tell you that I’m as healthy as a moose. Unfortunately, it’s Bullwinkle Moose.

Now, after nearly a half century in this world, I didn’t think that there were a lot of new things that I haven’t experienced. I’ve tried a beer, had a cigarette, skinnydipped; and have done lots of whacko experiences.

I’ve done everything. Well, except for that Drew Barrymore thing. But that’s another story.

Okay, maybe I haven’t done “everything.” I’m not saying I ever tried smoking a joint, but – if I did – I’m saying I didn’t inhale.

Anyway, when I went to the doctor’s I expected the usual “Step on the scale, Mr. Hopkins – and try not to break it this time!”

Everything was going as I imagined until the doctor glanced at my chart and noted my age. He asked if I had ever had my prostate checked.

“No,” I told him, “I don’t think so.” Actually, I didn’t know what a prostate was.

“Do you mind if I check it?”

“Not at all,” I said, as I began to roll up my shirt sleeve.

“No, you don’t need to do that,” Doc said. “You need to drop your pants.”

I stared at the doctor, with one thought booming in my brain: “Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”

I muttered, “Excuse me?”

“You have to lower your pants,” he repeated.

My thoughts were going all haywire. I thought I was coming in to see a doctor and he was turning into a Catholic priest!

Awkward as I felt, I tried to pretend that it was no big deal to drop my drawers in front of another man. My first hint that this wasn’t going to be as simple as I thought was when Doc told me to turn around and bend over.

I was sure that I’d never heard those words unless I was in prison for a very long time.

“Men over 50 should get this done regularly,” Doc said. I watched as he slipped a latex glove on. I wondered what he was planning to do with that …


I’m not going into the gory details, but if I had been trying to smuggle drugs hidden in my rectum, he’d have found them.

I’m fine, I’m happy to say.

But, fellas, I suggest you start eating an apple a day if you want to keep the doctor away. And I’m pretty sure you do.