The Annual Gyno Visit

Okay, I am putting out the warning right now. Although this story isn't graphic, it will give you mental images that might could probably make you feel awkward if you are male or know me in person. But then again, if you know me, you know this could be a whole lot worse. So it's your choice - you can either NOT read it, or read it and laugh, or pretend you didn't read it when you next see me.

Every single one of us are faced with challenges all the time and with things that we know we have to do but don't want to do. Females should be used to the annual gyno visit by the time they are my age. I mean, I have been going to the same man for over 20 years and he has seen parts of me that my husband hasn't. You could say we have a bond. Still doesn't make it easier to go every year so if you are anything like me gosh I hope not but you probably are since we are friends, you put this visit off until the last possible moment.

I had lots of reasons why I didn't really want to go. First I was worried about getting my cast into the stirrup so he could even do the exam. Then there's the fact that my gyno screwed me up big time this year when he didn't let me know what my breast MRI results were, then didn't let me know what the results of the biopsy were, then on top of that, when the insurance company decided they were going to question why I had the MRI to begin with, said gyno's girls told the insurance company I had forged the prescription. I had gotten that cleared up but nary an apology from the office. I was planning on getting a new gyno but with all the foot/ankle and inlaw crap stuff going on, I didn't get a chance until it was too late and I needed my natural hormones refilled. So I figured I would go back this once and after I had the scripts in hand, I would let him have it.

Best laid plans! First off, son wasn't too pleased to know he was taking me to the gyno to begin with (I knew he would fuss pitch a hissy fit protest) but I had already conned sweet talked him into it. He dropped me at the door and took off with tires screeching. I think he was terrified worried he had to go me in with me.

So I took a deep breath and started the long scoot in the building then to his office. I check in. The girl needed a copy of my insurance card and photo ID. Okay I actually carried a purse that day although it was the 1st time in 57 days I have done that. I go to my wallet and there is no drivers license or insurance card. I am trying to remember when I last had them - okay, drivers license when I applied for my passport that has yet to arrive, and okay, my insurance card when I checked into the hospital. Now I told my husband to put them away but knowing him, he threw them in the purse. Yep, I found them at the bottom of the purse although I had already called the office to fax me over a copy of our insurance card.

So far so good. I sit down to wait. The waiting room is a decent temperature - cold for everyone but me. Then I get called in. First is the dreaded scale. The nurse took one look at me and says, I don't think we will do this - just give me your weight. The last time I was weighed was 56 days ago at the hospital so I gave them that weight. Next was the exam room 2 hallways away. I was told to sit until the doctor came in. Now the temperature in the exam rooms was over 100 degrees. In reality it was probably only 80 something but that is enough for me to start hot flashing.

He came in, greeting me like a long lost friend. But I was still nice. I gave him a wet handshake. We chit chatted a bit about my ankle and all the meds I am now on. I gave him my latest test results (his girls are not computer literate). He got up and said to change and he would be back. He laid the oh so fashionable white tissue paper vest that probably fits a 10 year old with mosquito bites for boobs along with that lovely white tissue paper that we are supposed to drape around our waist but it barely covers the front let alone the sides or rear. Hospital gowns offer more coverage.

He leaves and I think, OMG, I was worried so much about how I was going to get the cast into the stirrup that I forgot I had to get naked. Getting naked takes me awhile. Not easy to do. Plus the clothes are sticking to me because I am sweating buckets by now.

The doctor came back and I was still trying to get undressed. He said he would be back. 2nd time he came in, I had just gotten stripped and was standing almost stark naked in the room (I kept on my left foot sock, brace and shoe and of course I had the cast to the knee on the right leg). (I warned you - not a good visual image). He backed out and said he would be back. I put on the tissue paper vest and drape but couldn't get onto the table. Although the vest and drape are made for 10 year olds, the table is tall and clearly made for giants and this shorty could not even begin to crawl up on it with a bum leg in a cast.

So he comes back and I said I needed help getting onto the table which he did get me a stool. I sit and he takes my blood pressure. Then he tells me to lay down and slide forward. Um....I am now sitting on tissue paper on the exam table. I stuck to it so when I slid, said tissue paper came with me.

The doctor figures out what to do with my cast - it went on top of the stirrup. Exam accomplished. Meanwhile, the wee bit of tissue paper that was there covering my top and bottom and beneath me is now disintegrating, being absorbed by my hot flashing.

So once it was over he said go ahead and get dressed and meet him in his office. He did help me down and left. I picked tissue paper off me for the next 30 minutes then got dressed and went to his office. He gave me the scripts for my meds and one for the followup breast MRI to make sure they biopsied the right lump back in January. I made sure I had those in hand, then I let him have it with the office's attitude and his lack of compassion and code of conduct about my exams and accusing me of falsifying a presciption he wrote. He apologized and said it was a new girl. Sorry, not an excuse. I had already asked if there were any new girls and was told no. He apologized again but honestly, all I wanted was out of there. It was hot. I had what I came for. I was done for another year. And it would be a cold day in hell before I went back to him.

.....unless of course I put finding the new doctor off until the last minute again.