From the book
PROTONS versus Prostate Cancer: EXPOSED
… I was then reminded to wait in the dressing room until retrieved by an RT. This is in deference to the privacy of the prior patient as they exit, to protect their identity and their … their hiney, usually at least partially hanging out the backside of the gown. There is just no way to tie the gown’s two sets of meager little laces adequately to prevent some overexposure. I guess that’s probably the whole point of the gown design, after all: easy access to the necessary gateway. So the prior patient exits the treatment room and either bolts full steam ahead for the bathroom directly across from the dressing room and quickly closes the door, or enters the other of the two side-by-side dressing rooms and closes the curtain. At that point it’s deemed safe for me to reveal myself and enter the treatment room unseen, with my predecessor anonymously out of sight. A therapist retrieves me and leads me into the treatment room.
This concern with our vanity is refreshing, but later becomes unnecessary. We soon lose all humility, and most of us couldn’t care less who sees what, or who can identify us. The above routine just kind of falls apart of its own accord. I was often preceded by a sweet little old granny-type lady, who clearly had no interest in hiding from me. We exchanged smiles and nods as she left, and I entered. She saw some of mine, and I saw some of hers, hers not especially interesting to me, and vice versa, I’m sure.