I’ve never watched Embarrassing Bodies before. The ads alone were usually enough to make me switch channel. But then I got a message from Aisling.
Watch Embarrassing Bodies, she said. It’ll be a really funny post, she said. At one point during the show, my boyfriend glared at me and said “Aisling owes me a puppy for this”. Two seconds later, at the sight of penis surgery, he added “two puppies”.
LADS. I don’t know if I’ve ever gasped in horror or held my breath as much in my life as I did for those sixty minutes.
It started off reasonably ok. Dr. Christian was swanning around on a beach in Ibiza, quizzing the holidaying masses about whether or not they practice safe sex. A shocking amount of the men he spoke to said they don’t use condoms and weren’t in the least bit bothered about unprotected sex. All I learned from this was NEVER HAVE SEX IN IBIZA, as by the sounds of it everyone is completely riddled. One moron in particular stated “If you’ve not had chlamydia at least three times, then you’re not a player”. That man should have his mickey confiscated.
Things took a turn for the uncomfortable when we returned to the clinic back in England, though. Each patient is briefly shown waiting to be seen, sitting on a green couch in a weird, limbo-like and completely white waiting room. But then they enter the doctor’s surgery and take their pants off/open their mouths to reveal their buried penis/tonsils covered in craters and I hide behind my hands for a bit and whimper. There was also a woman who was having trouble peeing for the last eleven years, so they sent her off to have her urethra unblocked AND NOTHING WAS PIXELLATED. Not a goddamn thing.
The least traumatic thing on the show was a man whose little finger had been stuck at an angle for years, due to growths in his tendons. They treated it by injecting enzymes into his hand and then snapped his finger back down (which was a bit horrible) but afterwards it was lovely to see him able to use his hand again properly and how happy he was to have regained his finger.
I don’t think I’ll be watching it again, though. I’m not able for it. Are you?
And if so, HOW?