It all started when decided to pretend-pay my bills. I do this usually once a month. I open up all of the bill-ish looking mail that I have been sticking in a basket on my desk for the prior 29 days. Then, I very adultly decide which bills I will pay and which can wait for another 29 days or so. Sometimes I find fun things disguised as bills, like, letters letting me know I have accumulated enough points on my cell phone bill to get 3% off of a brand new toaster ( I don’t toast things so…) Or a letter from a fellow village resident letting me know that we have someone in the neighborhood who is using all of the bandwidth ( I don’t know what bandwidth is so…). Or, in the case of Last Night, a letter from my GYN telling me I was scheduled for a “procedure” at 9am…the next morning….which would be this morning.
And so, I went to hang out at my doctor’s office at 9am. I mean, there was a “procedure” to take place , but I guess the warm up to that was me sitting pants-less for 45 minutes in anticipation. Yeah. 45 minutes of no pants. I swear it must be somewhere in my Permanent Record that I enjoy sitting ass naked in exam rooms. I don’t, but somewhere along the line, someone got the impression that I did, and now, here we are, 43 years later…free ballin…again. I have to say I was curious as to what this “procedure” would entail. Aren’t you curious?
The nurse came in and took my blood pressure. 119 over 77. She complimented me on my low blood pressure (nurses always do, which is why I added it to my online dating profile). I asked her what all this “procedure” was going to be like. She was pretty vague…something about iodine and a small amount of blood and uterus and cervix. You know how some people hate the word moist? I feel the same way about the word cervix. It absolutely makes me want to gag. I think that is why I had such a hard time going into labor spontaneously. The thought of my cervix doing ANYTHING grosses me out the door.
Anyway, after about 4 days and 1200 texts to my friends about being half naked for no good reason, the doctor came in. She went over what she was about to do. It was something about a straw with a cutting tool and maybe a telescope? something about a spatula and then she said cervix and I tuned out.
I assumed the position, scootched down 3 times and tried to go to my happy place in my mind. All of the sudden, I felt this blinding pain, a cross between a cramp and buck shot being directed into my abdominal cavity. For a minute, I thought my missing right ovary had returned with assault weapons and possibly a rabid narwhal. I probably would have kicked the doctor right in the ear but I think I was being pinned to the table from the inside. There may have been some swearing, there was absolutely some begging and bargaining. At one point, I believe I may have promised the nurse a new car if she would just get the doctor out of my cootch long enough for me to jump out the window.
And then I heard the doctor sigh and say “Well, your cervix is very cooperative but….blah blah blah blahblahblahblah” Yeah, she said the magic word and that was all it took. Let’s just wrap up this TMI nightmare by saying that I had NOT planned on this nonsense today. In fact, I was headed into work when I decided to take this detour into female hell. I love being a girl, there are so many reasons to love being a girl. But the down-there doctor always makes me rethink my stance on feminism.
There is more to the story but, I will leave you with this thought : A gynecologist is simply a dentist for your lady bits.