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Gynecological Adventures {Part 1}

If you’re a woman, then you already know about the joy of taking your annual gynecological exam. (Yippie!) And no matter how much you dread it, this is one date that you can’t break!  One of my past visits was just down-right comical.  (Tell me this kind-of stuff doesn’t happen to you?) It happened years ago, but I’m bringing it back because some things are just that funny – or weird, or emotionally painful? (Psst: I’m not sure if this kind-of-stuff is discussed in polite society – so we’ll just keep it between the two of us.)  😉 

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Is there anything else on earth as exciting as being a woman?

Being a Woman 2.jpg

Think about it: we girls get to twirl, we get to wear make-up, high heels and flowers in our hair.  Oh, the joy!  Do men get to twirl?  Not without a good bit of public humiliation.  It’s exclusive to being a girl… a woman.

But what I love most about being a woman is taking my annual gynecological exam.  Woo-hoo!  This is a thrill that cannot be equaled.

Any woman 21 and over should have a yearly gynecological exam: a brief physical exam, a breast exam, a pelvic exam, and other lab tests and counseling as needed.

I’ve heard it recommended that this be done around the time of a woman’s birthday so that she is less likely to forget about having it done.  Not bad thinking: reach a significant milestone, take a significant test.  I like it!

So, I’ve adopted this strategy and I think it’s working well for me.  My birthday is in August, so by the time I remember to take my annual exam it’s already . . . November.  This happens every year, so November is when I take my exam, just in time for my birthday.  Hey, at least I eventually get there.

Well, just the other day I had my annual date with my GYN, and here’s how it went down…

I walked into my doc’s office and was greeted by the usual gals at the front desk, and some new ones, too.

Them: Fill out these intake forms Mrs. Holmes. {I’m handed a clip board with many forms.}

Me: They look identical to the ones I filled out last year.  Are they the same?

Them: Yes, they are.

Me: Well, in that case, none of my information has changed since last year, nothing but my cell number.  Otherwise everything is exactly the same: same person; same coverage; same SS number; same employer; even the same husband.  Do I really need to do this?  Can’t I just initial by my new cell number?

Them: Sorry Mrs. Holmes, we have to update the records every year.

I can tell that I’m beating a dead horse, so I decide to stop begging for a stay on filling out the documents.  Besides, I’m a team player – I can fill them out again.

My name is called and then I enter the exam room.  Small talk ensues with my GYN’s assistant.  Questions are asked about my youngest, who was then 3-years-old.  (My OB/GYN delivered my last two babies.  She’s very good and I love her.)

It’s now time to potty in the cup.  Oh goody, goody, gum drop!  This is the highlight of the entire visit.

Green Pee Cup

Off to the bathroom I go.  There are signs posted ALL OVER the walls which read: Please Do Not Deposit Paper Towels, Sanitary Napkins, Tampons or any other items in the toilet!  These signs are so large and numerous that they almost look like wall paper.

Okay, I get it. Nothing goes in the toilet except toilet paper.  That fancy college education I got is really paying off.

I proceed to open my urine cup and the top immediately pops off and out of my butter-fingers and lands smack-dab in the toilet, the commode, the chamber pot! Ugh!  I sense that I’m in a bit of trouble; especially since the green cap does not qualify as toilet tissue.

I’m pretty good at picking things with my hands, so I quickly assessed the best method for retrieving the cap. Thankfully it landed with its’ flat side down on top of the water, resembling a little boat floating about.  I put my finger inside the cap and gently pulled it towards the inside of the bowl and dragged it up the side of the toilet until I could firmly grasp it.  Whew!  I was still in compliance with the life-size Do Not Deposit posters plastered all over the walls.

I then proceeded to potty in the cup with almost pin-point accuracy, getting almost none on my hand.  (Do I sound like I’m bragging here?  Please excuse me, but there aren’t many things that I can brag about in life.  I cook a mean ham and I aim well into cups – so you can’t take this away from me.)

When I returned to the exam room I had to explain why my cap was missing.  I mean, what kind of person purposely leaves the cap off of their urine cup?  (That’s like a major violation in 48 of the 50 states!)  I explained that it fell into the toilet – but I was a good girl and dutifully fished it out right away.  I had a big grin on my face because I thought I was exceptional – but boy did I get a look!  “And just how did you do that?” the assistant asked matter-of-factly.  I told her about my skilled hands, being certain to add how I did it without touching virtually any of the toilet water.  (I was hoping that had made a difference.)  I mean, let’s not be snobs about the matter; after all, I saved the toilet!

Next, I’m told to strip down to my birthday suit and put on a fancy paper gown, leaving it open in the front and to then wait for my doctor.

Nervous Patient UndressingOnce she left the room I began to disrobe, paying particular attention to the door that was unable to lock from the inside (seriously?!).  I’m rushing while I wonder which article of clothing to remove first – nervous that my Doc will walk in before I’m able to cover myself with the “gown” (there was no curtain in the room).

Is it just me?  Am I the only one who struggles with this affliction?  Have you ever stood completely bare in a cold and sterile exam room with NO lock on the door trying to figure out how to open a paper gown – one in which the manufacture has seemingly sealed shut to no doubt annoy you and cause you to hyperventilate?  Do you feel my pain?

And scoff if you will at the fact that I could have opened the gown before I started to undress.  In my defense, I only do this once a year and it’s not like I take notes.

Of course, before I’m done I hear “knock-knock,” and IN enters my Doc.  My eyes are wide open: I look like a deer stuck in head lights.  I guess its okay as I’m pretty much covered.  She smiles and makes small talk, as if it’s completely normal that I am exposed and fighting with my gown.  I smile, too (awkwardly).  We chat about my kids.  Then the real fun begins!

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Stay tuned for part 2.  Or better yet – subscribe via email so you don’t miss it!


You are coming back, right? If you don’t come back to read part 2, I will feel cheap and rejected – like the whole wheat bread that is left on the shelf at the market in lieu of potato bread.  Dang that potato bread!
Can you relate to this post? What are your GYN visits like?  If you’re too lady-like to share, just shout out “Holla!” or “Feel your pain!” in the comments below.  (I know how to read between the lines.)  😉

Tiffiney

I’ve shared this article at these fabulous faith and family link-ups.

Comments

  1. HAHAHAHAHA!!! I’m laughing at this Tiffiney, mainly because I relate to this! Those special appointments are just too much fun, right? My dr is a male, which adds to the experience. Although I go every year, I can surely say it is NOT one of the appointments I look forward to! =) Thanks for the laugh, I needed that! Linking up with you at Imparting Grace.

    • Hi Alisa, I’m holding on by a thread and my Dr. is a woman. If my doc was a male I’d melt into a puddle. But male or female doc, we are so incredibly privileged to be able to get this level of care. God bless you and thanks for stopping by.

  2. After struggling with female issues for awhile my general doctor sent me to a GYN in our small town. The varios doctor offices were individual buildings, separated by parking lots and trees. As I was running a little late and frantically rushing up and down the sidewalk trying to find the right building a gentleman popped him head out a side door and asked if I was lost. After replying yes and telling him the building I was looking for he replied “This is the building.” as I turned to go to the main entrance he offered to let me in the door he was at. Once inside the door it appeared I was in the mans office. He stuck his hand out for a handshake and introduced himself as the doctor I was going to see. Having never met the doctor before I accepted his handshake and commented “Oh, my name is Denise. It sure is nice to meet you first with my pants on.” The look on his face was priceless! His reply was “Oh, I never thought of that.”

    • Oh my goodness, Denise! If I were giving a prize for the most interesting or amusing story, you’d certainly win. You have quite a sense of humor. I think your gonna like it around here. :o) Thanks for stopping by.

  3. because an “actual gynecologist” is reading your web site, i have to tell you. but there is a qualitative difference between seeing it in parts and seeing it all together. Yes, i would recognize that cervix anywhere but not the face.

  4. i know it’s a little strange, but the fact that the door cannot be locked from the inside is for YOUR protection. it means that anyone can walk in at anytime. then the examiner cannot do weird and wonderful things to you during your exam because she/he will be “found out”. may be difficult but it is for your protection.

    • Hey Rosie: it actually makes perfect sense – as you pointed out. But to a panicking mom who is struggling to conceal herself, somehow the logic seems flawed. (I tend to loose all sense of composure when I’m asked to bare it all!) PS. Thanks for caring enough to point that out. :o)

  5. Tiffany, I am so glad we were neighbors at Holley’s today (#7)…I’ve seen your link at every linkup and wanted to read it but was trying to read my direct neighbors to follow protocol. BUT , now I’m next door to you. HYSTERICAL. Perfectly written!!!

    • Susan!…so glad we were finally “literal” neighbors. Thanks for stopping by and so glad to know that you enjoyed the post. Come back for part 2 and have a great day!

  6. I think this is a scenario that we all can relate to, Tiffiney! How funny! And I’m so sorry that nurse didn’t understand how that could possibly happen to your lid! I totally can see how it would happen and must be a pretty common occurrence. It must be that she was one of those “new” faces you saw when you came to the window of the office! 😉 I love your humor and can’t wait to hear part 2 of this very female-only saga!

    • Hey Beth! So glad that you stopped over and that you enjoyed this very “female-only” saga – as you so aptly put it. The fun continues in part 2, so stay tuned and thanks for stopping by.

  7. I found your blog “sitting among friends” and it started my day with a smile. I practiced ob/gyn for twenty years and on a few rare occasions I walked in on someone. They usually quipped, “Oh well, you’re going to see it anyway!” Looking forward to hearing the rest of the story.

    • Hi Vickie! I had no idea that an actual gynecologist would read my story. Boy, I hope I do it justice! Thanks for stopping by and please do come back for part 2.

    • Sandra…I’m so glad that you stopped by to read about my adventure (or should I say mis-adventure?). And your coming back? Woo-hoo! I shall leave the porch light on for you. :o)

  8. Oh those paper gowns are *the worst*! They don’t fit right, they’re uncomfortable, and who are we kidding here with those things!? I absolutely detest them!

    I think we all hate our annual gyn visit. Thanks for making it sound so funny! #MommyMoments

    • Hey there Lisette!

      I’m so glad you enjoyed the post. Yes, those gowns are killer! :o) I just visited your blog home – and it’s just lovely. I love the name too! So fun and playful :o) Thanks so much for stopping by. I’m looking forward to joining your Friday Blog hop. Woo-Hoo!

    • Hey Lisa!

      Yes, socks are a must. Thankfully they allow us to keep them on. See ya next week for part 2. Thanks so much for stopping by! :o)

  9. OMGoodness Tiff! You are so funny. You are so right, I absolutely dread the GYN visit. The cap in the toilet sounds like something that would happen to me, but my hand would have ended up in the toilet water and then I would have to spend the rest of the day washing them before I felt clean again. Oh the struggle is real cousin.

    • Felicia! My favorite cousin in the world! (Along with my many other wonderful cousins!)

      So good hearing from you here on the blog. This GYN struggle is real. Why don’t we talk about it more? Yes, I know the cap in the toilet thing would happen to you, too. It’s a cousins thing. :o)

      So glad you enjoyed the post. Please stop by again soon. Love ya!

  10. Okay, Tiffiney, you are hilarious. As I said on Facebook, you had me just at filling out those forms. Yes, yes, yes, sister! Give me a break! This the computer age! How is it possible we still have to fill our the SAME information every year? Also, all the rest of this is a riot…can hardly wait for part 2…

    • Morning Elizabeth!

      Nothing like a little GYN humor and coffee to get our day off to good start! I’m so glad that you can relate. Thanks so much for stopping by. Have a great day!

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