Thursday, August 28, 2008

The Gynecologist

I cringe at the very word - gynecologist. Especially since I have been sterilized and know I won't be needing the other side of his practice. And I know he doesn't like to see me coming either, because I am sure he didn't get into his line of work to do pap smears all day long. These men and women love to deliver babies. Not shine a hot lamp where no one should ever have to be and perform weird things. Unnatural things.

I cannot believe that in our modern world doctors have not come up with a way to replace the pap smear. Especially for incredibly boring people like me who have their family established, been married for forever, only have one sexual partner, and have never had an abnormal pap smear before. Couldn't they prick my toe and see if I have any abnormal cells in the lower region of the body? Have they not figured out how to hypnotize people and have their inner soul reveal all their medical ailments (including the possibility of precancerous cells on the cervix)? I mean, I think we ought to have a senate committee meeting every day with the most renowned gynos in the universe working together to find an alternate method. One that does not involve the phrase, "I just need you to relax and slide your bottom down to end of the table."

And why do we even have to talk to the nurse? This applies to all kinds of doctors. The nurse calls you back and weighs you, of course. Then the blood pressure and pulse and date of last period. Then you finally get to see the doctor and he doesn't even look at all the answers the nurse has written down for you. He asks you all the same questions. So I figure, cut out the middle man, and go directly to the doctor. I mean, does the doctor not know how to take vitals? I could just tell one person my life's story and get on with things. That might save a lot of money for the medical practices, and maybe we could pay a little less to go. Wishful thinking, I know.

I was impressed to see that the paper attire is beginning to resemble fabric a little more these days. (It has been two years since my last pap smear, so I have not been in the GYN office in a while.) Well, the little shirt they gave me was a softer, paper-like material. But the paper sheet was still crinkly and weird and huge and inhumane. The nurse might as well say, "Here sweetie. Get naked and cover yourself up with this big sheet of paper and wait for the doctor." This office has a button system on the inside of the room. The nurse told me to press the yellow button when I was ready. So, that was neat, because I normally freak out while undressing thinking that the doctor will just barge in and someone might see me standing there in all my glory. Oh what glory it is, too. That's why I really don't want anyone to see. They might feel insecure about their own body having seen mine. Right.

Anyway. Over and done with. And hopefully I won't have a need to see him again for another year.

1 comment:

Erika said...

What cracks me up is they are looking at the holy of holies, but you get undressed in private. I mean, I get it, but still.