They're only getting younger....

Today I went to the London School of Osteopaths on the advice of a colleague cause I've been having trouble with my neck and shoulder...who knows why, it could be age or my ass (we'll get back to this one later :)) I thought why not go here, it helps students learn and is cheaper than a regular osteopath.  Brilliant win, win right? 

So I walked in to the reception and almost immediately heard my name called looked up and two 'boys' barely over the age of 20 something came out to the reception area to collect me.  

They take me into one of the clinical rooms where they start taking my history, my history that is older than Methuselah and both of them put together.  I had underpants on older than this pair (another mortifying realisation when asked to strip down).

So anyways after asking me quite a few embarrassing questions...e.g. Are my poos loose? How regular is my cycle? (how do these boys know about periods)

I then was asked to strip down to my underwear, my old cotton pants while they talked to their supervisor. They'd just be gone for 10 minutes they said, the thing with time is that 10 minutes whilst hanging out with a mate and supping nice glass of wine, well it just simply zips by doesn't it?  When you're in your bra and pants, old pants waiting for people, young professional people in the next room to finish your consultation well the bastard just drags by.....it's like being caught in a horrific time loop, so I put my trousers back on cause I just felt so damn awkward. 

So here's me with my old, fat cellulite laden ass and my very messy bikini line emerging out of my pants, ha ha emerging that makes it sound like something delicate and shy not the horror out of control garden that I was looking down upon.  The voices were screaming in my head 'why didn't I wax last night !!!!???' 

You would think this was the end of my humiliation oh no.....I then had to bend over for them to check my posture (while I imagined they were sniggering behind their hands and doing that finger down the throat motion) whilst he suggested in technical terms that the size of my arse put strain on my back.  This is of course not what he actually said (he was a consummate professional, they both were)but is what the most mental, female part of my brain heard.  Baby has got back indeed. He also said 'she has good mobility' what I heard was 'for someone of her age'. 

Would it have bothered me as much if they were young females, yes without a doubt.  I don't think this was a gender thing it was more an age phobia.  I generally don't consider myself vain but I've also never been one to lack in body confidence, I think I'm doing pretty good for my age (if I do say so myself). But the thing about youth, as lovely as it is (and I do like looking upon its freshness) I quite frankly prefer to be fully clothed around it, especially when I'm stone cold sober and in that amount of lighting.

So next week I have to go back and I will be wearing bigger pants and whipper snippering the rabid outback.  Oh and trying to silence the voices.....