May the Doctor's Hands Be Large and Cold....

Any woman out there can easily agree that this is a curse they do not want to hear. This is a wish you would make to a person you really don't like. Scratch that, we are women. It's a wish you would make behind the back of someone that you don't like. Or, you could be like me. It could be a wish you make to a close friend. Particularly when you find out that she's the proud new owner of an iPhone. One of the few material things in life that you covet. Because she's a dirty little wench who happened to tell you that she was reading your blog for entertainment while at the gynecologist. She deserved it.  I don't envy many material possessions. I reserve my lust for Tim McGraw, Shemar Moore, Captain Morgan's and chocolate. I think I'm entitled to a shot of bitterness.

Once I got past the jealousy I had to seriously consider whether it was a compliment or insult that she was reading the blog during her yearly inspection. In the words of a wise women, namely me, what the hell?? That could be a painful laugh if the story was too funny.

Anyways, the whole conversation made me think. About va-jay-jays and exams. Not my friend's. My own. Why I hate them. I mean obviously I hate them because I'm supposed to. No sober woman would dare say she enjoyed lying naked and being fondled by the person that tends to her medical needs or delivered her babies. Yet, for me there is so much more. I've never had very good luck with my inspections. In fact, I am pretty sure that those who performed them spent some time in the closet with a bottle of Jack Daniels first. Not that I can blame them. It has to be traumatic to be looking at a vagina. Unless you are a porn star. In which case it might be considered part of the benefits package.

Back to my doctors. A few years back I had a family doctor I loved. It was a female. I say that because women tend to have their preferences. Some prefer women because it seems wrong to have a man staring into the nether regions. Some prefer men because it seems even stranger to have a woman do it. Me, I would just like sober.

So this doctor was a great doctor. She's the one that put me on Xanax. That equates to instant love. She insisted that I have the exam and I grudgingly agreed. So I'm there, on the table, spread out for the world to see and she proceeds to discuss her hair and beautician with the nurse. I'm not talking a side conversation as she does her work. I mean a full conversation, taking all of her attention. That exam lasted forever. Afterwards, I lie there still exposed and she continues to talk. "Um, hello. Do you mind if I do something completely weird like maybe putting on some panties?"

That doctor moved and no longer took my insurance and I switched. I managed to swing by two whole years before anyone caught on to the fact I was avoiding my exam. At the time, I had another new doctor from the same practice. She insisted. I hesitated. She looked kind of manly so I thought I was safe with no beauty tips going on during the process. Then it happened. Just before I undressed she came to me and she leaned down and said with a smile, "I promise my hands are small and warm".

Way to add to that comforting feeling doc.

Let me be clear. The exam was quick and painless. Afterwards, however, things got a bit weird. She looked me directly in the eye and asked, "Did I keep my promise?"

Really? I just had my nether regions poked and prodded and you want me to confirm that you did a good job? You want me to reassure you that your size was accurate and that I was as comfortable as possible? You are looking for affirmation before I even put my pants back on?

Maybe she was more manly than I thought!

So tell me, am I alone? Is there some code in my chart that says get drunk before doing the exam? Is there something that makes you particularly hate that moment?