Mr. Uterus….and family.

16 Sep

The only downside of moving has been re-acquiring doctors.  In your hometown you know exactly who is good and who is not.  Who’s waiting room is a black hole of lost time and who can really get things done.  And most importantly, who’s elevator goes all the way to the top floor and who was just a few points away from flunking out of med school.  Thus I am a little weary of my upcoming yearly visits.

I’m finally getting my eyes checked after having worn the same prescription for almost ten years.  I’m pretty sure my astigmatism is feeling a bit unloved, because it has gotten decidedly worse in the past six months.  I have put this off because I do not relish walking around with dilated eyes like some undead child from a horror flick.  “Uhhh…I want to eat your liver.”  No, that’s never good.  Plus, the optometrist always seems to get my eyelashes snagged in the viewing thingy.  (As if I know what that thing is called.)  I think that eyelashes look best when they’re stilled attached to an eyelid and are the proper length.  I always leave the optometrist with eyelashes that look like that get stuck in a boat prop.

Next up is the OB/GYN.  I know, who writes about that.  I normally would not, but I actually have a killer/awkward story pertaining to this subject.  Come on..you know you want to hear it.  Lady bits!  They’re so exciting!

So, one time at the OB/GYN office when I was pregnant with Jaden, I was getting a tune up.  (Surely man-talk with make this less weird.)  The guy I normally saw was on vacation, so I got to see the new midwife instead.  (Somehow my hometown has all male Gyno’s….how crazy is that?)  So I was relieved to finally see a female.  That’s not weird, right?  I mean, the whole “lets check out your stuff” thing is weird, but at least a lady makes it less so.  Oh…I was wrong.  As I’m staring at the faded beach scene taped to the ceiling, she’s introducing herself to my lady parts like a teacher on the first day of Kindergarten.

“Hello, Mrs. Uterus.”  “Why, hello Mr. Cervix.”

Really?  That’s how this is going to be?  Quick, find the most decrepit male Gyno you can find and get this freak out of here!

It was, hands down, the most awkward five minutes of my life.  What do you say?

“Um, look.  My lady parts hit puberty about then years back, so you can just drop the baby talk.  Okay?  Thanks.”

So you can see why I am a little nervous about seeing another female OB/GYN.  I just don’t have the best track record.  My fingers are crossed that this new doctor will treat my organs properly and not personify them in any way.

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