Wild women
need to take care of our bodies. We need to have annual checkups, visit
our dentist, have bone density test as we get “more seasoned” in years, and of
course, the two dreaded visits: having the “I feel like an IHOP pancake”
mammogram, and the mother of all annuals, the Pap smear. My friends, anyone
who tells you it’s easier to bend over and cough… well… they just don’t have
the ovaries to understand it now, do they?
Last Friday,
bright and early, I jump in the shower and get ready for my appointment.
Naturally, one MUST ensure one’s legs are utterly hairless. It’s just too
embarrassing to have unsightly stubble when you’re lying there with
your feet in the stirrups – giddyap, buttercup!
Showered? Check. Shaved? Check. Pretty matching undies
and not-too-goofy socks? Check. Oh c’mon now, you know your Mama
taught you to always wear pretty, clean undies in case you ever had an
accident! But I digress…
I open my back
door and lo and behold, I’m in the middle of a freak snowstorm that looks like
it’s about to become a full-blown blizzard. Sigh… my day off, when I
could have been asleep in bed or snuggled up reading a good book with a
steaming cup of tea, and I’m trudging out for the glorious “schooch on down” anticipated-for-a-year appointment. Do I know how to party or what?
Fast forward to
the doctor’s office. I am very blessed to have the coolest, female
primary care physician who also does “the annual”. She’s beautiful,
hysterically funny and the kind of gal pal you’d like to have at your girls’ night out parties. I
can’t tell you what a difference that makes at times like this. Well,
she’s just moved into new offices, and her adorable and young assistant walks
me into “the room”, where she takes my vitals and gives me one of those
FABulous designer paper gowns with the oh-so-so peek-a-boo fronts.
Fredericks of Hollywood (remember them) ain’t got nuthin’ on whoever cut these
things out of the leftover roll of cheap paper towels, let me tell you!
So there I am, waiting patiently in nothing more
than my little socks, my tres chic paper gown (hmmm… maybe I’ll take it
home and save it for the next big party), and a smile.
A soft knock
at the door… and in walks my friend Dr. Fabulous
with her light-up-the-room personality and smile, and we start joking and laughing as we
rearrange the table for me to “assume the position” (and you KNOW what I
mean). Well, you know that little tray-like silver thingie they pull out from the bottom of the table (what, are we
going to serve mimosas during this… hmmm.. well, if anyone is getting this
close to me, I would think a drink would be in order, wouldn’t you) But
again, I digress… So back to this little silver tray thingie. Doc is having a
bit of a problem getting it to work, so just as I get into position, she says to her assistant, (I
kid you not)… “Hey, can you go get me the WD-40” SERIOUSLY?
WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Naturally, I have to comment so I ask her, “WD-40? Has
it come to that? Exactly how big is that speculum?” At this point I
suddenly feel like a car about to get jacked up so the wheel can be
changed! By this time the three of us (no, no… her assistant and us, not the speculum) are howling with
laughter, tears pouring down our faces. “Yep… yep… yep… that’s one I’ve
never heard in a doctor or OB/GYN’s office before, Doc!” I exclaim.
As you may
have guessed, the WD40 was for the silver tray thingie, by the way. And as
a side note, have you ever really looked at one of those specula-thing-ah-ma-bobs? They
look strangly similar to either two
shoe horns stuck together back-to-back or the beak of a duck! No wonder you have the urge to scream
something that sounds like AAAAAflak! when one of those bad boys is slipped into place!
We settle in
to finish up the job (I think I’ll refer to her office as my local Jiffy Lube
center from now on) and I think she got me back because I’m sure she put that
speculum in the freezer before she made use of it! Can you spell “peel me off the ceiling”? I warned her I was going to write about this, but am not naming
names although I would love to recommend her to all my wild women friends
because she is just the BEST! So, as I ever-so-elegantly dressed and waddled out of her
office, ouch-ouch-ouch…. we parted ways for another year, still laughing.
I think she should send me flowers, don’t you?
The point, my
dearest wild women, is that (1) be sure you get your annuals this year, because
it’s the only body you have and you need to take care of it; and (2) there is
joy and funny moments in even the most mundane or bizarre moments in
life. So try to find the humor wherever you go today. Laughter is
the best medicine!
Blessings,
Good grief -- how DID I miss this???? Oh my word, girlfriend...this is just TOO MUCH!!! But I love it!!
ReplyDeleteThank you. I'm tellin' you, someone needs to place a copy of this in the waiting AND exam rooms of every Ob-Gyn, near and far!