I blame the hospital gown

I had a doctor's appointment the other day. I had to strip down from the waist up and put on a lovely hospital gown. (They never come in my size).
While I sat trying to keep my shoulders just so (just so my beautiful gown wouldn't slip off) the doctor looked over the tests I had gotten and explained what they meant. It is impossible to pay full attention to anything, let alone medical stuff, when you're wearing the equivalent of your bed sheets tossed over your shoulders.
After the doctor was finished, he told me the nurse would be in in a moment with some informational sheets. A moment? What's a moment in medical jargon, anyway? Are we talking layman's terms or 'the doctor will see you in a moment' terms? Since I was in a medical office, I decided it must be the latter.
He was clearly finished with me, and he didn't mention to change back, but I figured it was implied. Besides, I'd look silly sitting around in my billowing flaps of gown, swinging my legs over the examination table. The nurse would come in and ask in a surprised tone, "Why, hasn't the doctor seen you yet??"
I'd have plenty of time to change, read the cookbook I'd brought, and plan out the entire menu for Thanksgiving dinner before she made it back.

I had worn 2 shirts and a sweatshirt. I hurriedly got into my undergarments, and thought I'd just slip the shirt/sweater ensamble on all in one big swoosh.
Success!
So I thought!
I looked down to find that one of the shirts I tried to pull on had entirely escaped the dressing process. It drooped sloppily spilling out from my collar. I grabbed it quickly and threw it onto the exam table.
It looked messy. I couldn't leave it there. Now the nurse would wonder why I was leaving clothes lying all around and feel sorry for my husband because of his sloppy wife.
"I have time," I thought. "Just another quick swoosh and I'll be ready to go!"
Just to be safe, I decided to put the shirt on while still wearing my regular clothes. I wouldn't want to be caught half dressed, after all.
I put the shirt over my head. "And now, I'll just tuck it into my sweatshirt, take out my arms, put them into the shirt sleeves, weave my arms back into the other shirt and sweatshirt, and voila!"
My shirt was instantly twisted into a knotted trap. My arm was stuck at an 80 degree angle and tap, tap, tap came the nurse!
I yanked as hard as I could and jerked my arm back into my sleave just as she was walking in. The fugitive shirt flipped up in my face and hung limply around my neck. Her smile quickly faded and she swiftly looked down at her paperwork, her face not quite as red as mine. "Is everything okay?" she asked. Heh, heh.
I did the only thing a rational person in this situation could do. I walked over, acting as if it were perfectly normal to have my shirt sagging out of my sweatshirt collar. She half smiled and brough over the paperwork for me to see. I couldn't see it, the shirt was flopped right in my way. I flipped it casually over my shoulders and thanked her for the informational paperwork.