A few weeks ago I had an intense issue of a personal nature that required an immediate appointment with my gynecologist. I was even willing to step on the scale just to get some medicine. I waited in agony and the doctor came in and said, “It’s been a long time since you’ve had an annual exam. I’ll treat you today if you promise to make an appointment to get a Pap done.” At this point, I would have given him my car for help. We struck the deal, he diagnosed me, wrote a prescription and I was off. As I left I said, “The last time I saw you, you sent me to the hospital to have a baby.” He laughed and said, “This time I’m sending you off to book an appointment for a Pap.” I shrugged and said, “Win some, lose some.” Since he laughed at my joke, I booked the appointment.
Today was the big day. After a busy morning of prepping for the appointment (you ladies all know what I mean), I left for the office and was there 45 minutes early. I had the wrong appointment time. Thank goodness for excellent reading material and interesting texts from lady friends to keep my mind occupied.
While I love the doctors within the practice, some of the nurses leave much to be desired. This one was not my favorite. First mistake, stopping at the scale. After the humiliation of being weighed, she tells me to turn around so she can get my height. Couldn’t that bitch have been a little more compassionate to the fattie and had me face away from the scale during the weighing process? I mean really. I’m sure when she goes to her hair salon, they play 80’s music and talk about Jon Bon Jovi so she still thinks her poodle perm and mall bang are in style.
The only real complaints I have about time with the good doctor is that he didn’t buy me dinner first before poking my nether-regions and that room was damn cold. I was shivering before we even got started. At least he sat down and socialized for a bit before telling me to get in the saddle and putting my feet in the dumb stirrups. We discussed my endometriosis and he suggested birth control pills. I told him why I don’t like The Pill and he suggested a progesterone-based version. He said the mood swings would be non-existent and I wouldn’t get periods any more. Game on. Write the ‘script.
While the appointment wasn’t enjoyable by any stretch, I will say I appreciate being around people that find me amusing. I make him laugh, shake his head, roll his eyes… but never of course while he’s looking at my girl business. That would just be wrong and I might be offended.
And best of all, he has the kindness and compassion that his nurse lacks. Never once did he look at me and say, “Why you so fat?” That’s a good man right there.
If an annual wasn't a bad enough chore during vacation time, tomorrow is sure to rival that. I am joining the newest gym in town. Skinny Bitch is forcing me to be there at 8:45. Maybe if I'm nice to her she'll let us go out for doughnuts afterwards.