It's that time of year again. Time to get my tires kicked and my oil changed at the "girly doctor". It's not easy keeping up a body that is 3 decades old. Maintenance is required. You would think that I would be ecstatic at the thought of sitting alone in a room full of elevator music and magazines for an undetermined amount of time. After all, it is a chance to catch up on my Women's Day, Woman's Weekly and Reader's Digest. Stimulating reads my people! I guess providing all those publications really cuts down on those awkward moments of wondering if you are in the right place. I was. Patiently waiting through the lottery of names, mine finally came up. Woohoo! (sarcasm included).Off to the scale, which is more like confessional. The second I stood up on that metal platform, I immediately started confessing all of the shortcomings in my diet. The nurse gave me an unsympathetic look that said it all..."Here's a quarter honey. Call someone who cares or go buy another candy bar". I guess I'm not the only one. Next event, paper gown fashion show. Glamorous and breezy, what more could a girl ask for. After enjoying my recyclable outfit for a good 45 minutes with my back to the door, the doctor appeared on the scene. Why do they arrange the room so your back is to the door? Hello, here is my best side come on in!
I swear she must have turned up the heat, because the sight of those rubber gloves made me sweat like a banchee. This is only time I shy from hot pads. You know, the ones so gingerly placed over those shiny stirrups. At this point, I overcompensate by attempting to act normal which in turn makes me act even more abnormal. I start babbling on about the weather, chia pets, American Idol (which I don't really watch), lawn bowling, yada yada. Before I know it, I feel like I am having an out of body experience listening to this crazy who sounds like me. I am so uncool...and hot did I mention hot? Because while yammering on, I started to have every woman's fear of losing control of all body functions at an inopportune time. Oh the shame. Crisis averted. The only thing I couldn't control was my mouth and the doctor isn't paid to tell me to shut it. After tinkering around under my paper tent with her medieval salad tongs, the doctor pretty much pronounced "it's a girl" and was on her way. Yep, I am a girl...I probably could have told you that before the stirrups.
4 comments:
I love it! Its the worst hour (if you're lucky) of the year! Why is it that you always sit with your back to the door? I always feel like my butt crack is going to be hanging out for all to see when they open the door. Hmmmm, makes me think of your crackupuncture experience.
been there. done that. hey i wonder if we were both actually at the gyno the same time. i went out with no sudden urge to pass gas or to have a b.m. i felt pretty good about it. although i did tell the nurse how vulnerable i felt as she and the dr were probing around my womanly part trying to get my i.u.d. in. her response was "we've got you exactly where we want ya!" she thought it was funny...i didn't!
p.s. feet warmers on the stirrups? do you have to pay extra for those? never heard of such a thing.
Don't forget Parents mag! That's my favorite, for those of us with no kids of our own! Oh and my visit was last month and let me tell how awkward it can be when my feet are spread, I'm trying to keep my knees together (like that helps!) and my doctor decides to stop and show me pics of her new baby girl. It was worse than trying to talk to the dentist with his hands in my mouth.
As Jada would say--"Oh my gosh!" You are the funniest person ever. I swear I have never met anyone before who could say it like you. How can you read all of our minds and put it all together in the funniest posts. Love it!!!
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