The only thing worse than an impersonal urologist would be a personal urologist. That would be one who got personally interested in my apparatus. (My "junk" as the guy in the airport inspection station called it).
Like the doctor who, with his nurse, was about to administer a colonoscopy to me. I lay there in all my glory with my butt sticking out towards them as they prepared a device that looked like a black vacuum cleaner hose. What really bothered me is they seemed quite entertained. I wasn't at all amused.
Or, like the lady dermatologist I saw for a fungal infection in my finger nail. She ordered me to get undressed and to wear one of those backward smocks they give you in the hospital. (I remind you it was my finger nail that was my complaint). Then she handled me with those little sticks like popsicle sticks they call tongue depressers. Now I know why they're called that! They're quite depressing. She examined me all over butt found nothing other than my fingernail.
Or then again there was the doctor who several years ago ordered me to turn around, drop my pants and lean on the examining table as he donned his glove. I realized the need to have my prostate "palpated", but what bothered me was the fact that he enjoyed it so much. He turned around suddenly and went to the corner of the room as if to hide a foolish grin. Then I learned the meaning of the word "chagrin".
And then there was the doctor who had to examine all of us boys as we entered the boy scout camp. There were about 50 of us. We all had to undress completely and file past the doctor who stuck his index finger up behind our scrotum and told us to "caugh". He was making sure that we didn't have a rupture. As he did this, the manager of the camp and his assistant stood there watching. I guess they were watching to make sure he did a thorough job.
They get paid for their practice. Why do they have to enjoy it?