…or “All about my first foray into the world of aviation medical exams.”
I knew going into this that I was going to need a third class medical before I’d be able to solo. I actually ended up sort of putting it off until after I got started, but once my logbook approached a Bob Hoover-like 5 hours, it was definitely time to get the medical out of the way. Accordingly, I visited the FAA’s AME Locator and found an examiner just a couple of blocks away from work, and earlier this week, called for an appointment. D-Day, H-Hour was to be 10:15 AM on the 20th.
In addition to getting my information and setting the appointment, the lady also directed me to the FAA’s site so I could fill out Form 8500-8 in advance. This form turned out to be a medical history of sorts. I initially thought I’d get the thing done during my lunch break at work, until I got to a section where I was supposed to list all my visits to medical professionals in the past three years. Uh-oh. You see, about 2.5 years ago, I got into a motorcycle accident. My ER visit that day was followed by visits to multiple specialists and a fair amount of physical therapy. I wasn’t even sure I could remember all the places I went, but at home that night, I worked up what I thought was a fair list and finished the application. The website instructed me to write down my confirmation number and take it with me to my appointment.
Fast-forward a few days, and I found myself entering a doctor’s office for the first time in a few years. (Bad me! No cookie!) Upon introducing myself to the receptionist, I was given a form to fill out. As I began, I suddenly realized it was the same thing I had done online a few nights before.
“You know, I already did this form online… do I still have to fill this one out as well?”
“Unless you brought that with you, yes.”
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to bring an electronic form with me, but oh well. At least my memory of all those doctors’ visits was fresh. It only took me a few minutes to finish the form, and when I returned it to the receptionist, she presented me- in a rather casual fashion- with some sort of bag. No explanation was offered with said bag, but once I looked inside and saw the familiar shape of a urine sample container, I got the drift. After a few minutes with which we need not deal here, I returned with my cup figuratively running over, positioned securely inside the bag. This was where the morning got a bit entertaining.
As I entered the office, I approached the receptionist’s window again and placed my precious cargo upon the counter. The reaction to this was priceless. It was as if that collection jar emitted some sort of powerful repulsion field; as it came into view of the receptionist and settled on the counter, she slid away briskly in her office chair as if I was brandishing a deadly weapon.
“I don’t want it!!!!!!!”
Well jeez, neither do I… but there was to be no discussion on the subject, and soon I found myself relaxing on a waiting-room couch, still holding my sample in one hand. Seemed a bit odd, but whatever. Luckily, it was only a minute or two before a nurse retrieved me and relieved me of my cargo.
Back in the exam area, the first order of business was a trip to the scale (when did I get that heavy?), followed by a battery of vision tests. Nothing really special here, just visual acuity, stereo vision, color vision, etc. I was then led into an exam room, where I waited for a bit before having my pulse and blood pressure checked. This was followed by some more waiting, until the doctor himself came in. He briefly reviewed my history, got clarification on a few things, and then had me sit on the famous table with the paper on it.
What followed was a pretty basic medical checkup; he looked in my mouth and ears, listened to my lungs and heart, and did a few simple strength tests, checking that I had no weakness in a few specific movements. (such as pressing on a pedal) He looked at the back of my eyes, palpated my abdomen, felt for swollen glands, and then did something a bit sneaky. As he walked across the room to get something from the cabinet, he asked in a low voice, “Any hearing problems?” Nope. That was actually a bit of a self-test, sort of like if you call someone on the radio and ask if they can hear you. With that, I was done… back in the waiting room, I sat for a few minutes while my certificate was made out, and before long, I was on my way back to work.
All in all, it was pretty anticlimactic. I wasn’t expecting anything particularly in-depth, mind you, but seeing as how I hadn’t had a checkup in a few years, and how I’ve gotten pretty out of shape recently, there was a certain unknown element. But it all turned out great, and only took about an hour and a half out of my work day- and now I just need a signature (well, and some improved skills) to go solo!
