Where does the underwear go?

I, Spencer Davis, was naked from the waist down. I'd folded my jeans and put them on the single chair in the corner of the exam room but wasn't sure what to do with my underwear.

Should I hide them under my jeans or fold them neatly on top? If I hide them, then maybe the doctor will think I'm embarrassed about my body, but if I lay them out, then he will assume I have no problem with people staring at my underwear.

There was a knock at the door. I muttered a profanity and crammed the white cotton undies under my jeans. I made a running jump toward the exam table and miscalculated the distance.

Son of a bitch!

My knee slammed into the side and shifted the entire thing a good foot.

Doubling over in pain, I pulled my knee tightly to my chest, exhaling loudly in an effort not to cry out. The nurse knocked again.

"Everything all right in there?"

"Fine," I choked out. I pressed my forehead into my thigh and took several deep breaths to steady myself. "Everything is fine, give me just a minute."

Ow, ow, ow.

I limped toward the counter, grabbed a paper towel, and held it under the faucet of the sink. Turning on the water, I shivered as it saturated the paper and ran through my fingers. Goose bumps prickled up and down my naked legs.

This is so not my morning.

I balanced on one foot and pressed the cool compress to my swelling knee.

How did I end up here? This is totally insane.

Naked from the waist down, holding a flamingo pose as my knee throbbed, was not how I wanted the doctor to find me. I eyed the sterile-looking exam table critically. Of course, lying flat on my back, legs spread open for all to see, wasn't exactly the way I wanted the doctor to see me