I don’t know of any woman who enjoys her yearly trip to the gynecologist’s office, but I do know what we all think about having to go. Not only is this dreadful visit inconvenient, expensive, and embarrassing, but it is also imperative. Although the experience isn’t a very fun one, women can only laugh at the fact we have to sacrifice our dignity in order to make sure there is nothing wrong in the bat cave.
I sit in a cold office with a thin layer of paper around me which acts as my robe which I have reduced myself to wearing, as instructed by the underpaid doctoral assistant. I EWWWW!!! It’s that cold steel monster invading my body! have to wait anywhere from five to 30 minutes, which gives me plenty of time to read all of the posters, magazines, and other herpes and genital wart propaganda in the room before I am finally greeted by the doctor. He shakes my hand as if greeting a football coach, “This shouldn’t take too long.”
“Slide your rear to the end of the table.”
Meanwhile, I’m thinking that this guy doesn’t even know who the hell I am, yet he’s going to look in places that even I can’t see. So I slide my butt to the end of the table, careful not to slip off the edge as the slippery sanitary paper buckles beneath me. All I need is to feel even more humiliated than I already am.
“Now, relax your knees.”
Relax? How the hell can I relax when I am showing my petunia to a complete stranger, who happens to be seeing more than anyone I’ve ever dated?! What does he think of my shave job? of my hood piercing? I can only imagine what is going through his head. I close my eyes and “relax”, whatever that means.
“Are you sexually active?”
My face burns bright red. “Uhm, sometimes?” I retort. “Be sure to use protection. You can ask the receptionist for some condoms if you need them.” he says without hesitation. I cringe.
“You’re going to feel something cold and some pressure.”
EWWWW!!! It’s that cold steel monster invading my body! Something cold? How about FREEZING! This is obviously someone who would tell people in the path of a tidal wave they may experience MOISTURE! I just feel like I’d rather die than go through this! I’ll bet you anything that it was a man who invented this entire procedure ï¿½ and that damned device, too! Now I feel sick. Sick to my stomach and ready to get up and just hurl, but I can’t move with some metal object hanging out of my vagina like a giant shoe horn. Then he pulls it out like he’s done using a can opener, .and tells me that he’s going to feel my pelvic area. Now for latex gloves and cold slimey jelly.
“Only a few moments more.”
Isn’t that what he said 15 minutes ago? OUCH! That merciless pig! Just wait until my check bounces! Just wait until…
“Okay, seems like everything is fine down there,”
He reassures me. “Now, let’s do the breast check.” I can feel my breasts just fine, I think to myself. They are still there, still perky, and no lumps any lips or roving fingers have ever noticed. Oh! His hands are so cold! I hope he’s enjoying himself because I sure as hell am not! How could anyone want a job like this ï¿½ looking up women’s crotches? Couldn’t he have at least rubbed his hands together first? Or warmed them up somehow? JEEZ those fingers are cold!
“Breasts are fine.”
He informs me. Wow, usually when someone tells me that I at least receive a free drink with the comment! Usually by a guy who is dying to feel me up. Well, I just got felt up, and had to pay $90 bucks for it!
“See you next year.”
What a great time. “Gee, I can’t wait!” I feel like telling him. Now I get to go home, cramp, probably bleed a bit, and sit on the couch and sulk for the rest of the day. Time for some kettle corn and ice cream. Although it sucks visiting the gynocologist, it’s something we all have to do. Remember: This is a necessary procedure that may save your life some day! So bite the bullet and make the appointment. Just rest assured that you’re not the only one who hates it!