Since I got a new insurance provider when I changed jobs a few months ago, I figured I should go in for a physical and get prescription refills and such. Oh – and ask about any symptoms that I thought may be cancerous (I never used sunscreen as a child so the repercussions could be costly!).
So I go into this new doctor, referred to me by a friend. I find out that I have what her assistant called “White Coat Syndrome.” I have a fear of doctors. I have already psyched myself up for this visit and have mentally pre-gamed a ridiculous amount. Going to the doctor is a BIG deal for me. You would think as a self-diagnosed hypo, I would love to go to the doctor. But I do not.
I am chatting with the doctor and she asks me when the last time I had been to my lady doctor was. I inform her that it had been about a year but I had full intentions of making that appointment very soon (never!). This is when new doctor springs the news that she moonlights as a gyno as well. Would I like to have my annual exam then? Well, I guess so.
The more I think about this, the more I find it strange. Do I really want the same person who takes my blood pressure and treats me for my flu symptoms to go “down there”? It is just awkward. And how can she know about ALL areas? I guess when I went into the exam room and saw the dreaded stirrup table, I should have been aware.
Whatever women say, it is the most dreaded appointment of the year. It is awkward and there is poking and prodding. And NO, I do not want you to ask me about what my summer vacation plans are while you scrape large Q-tips against my cervix. I do not care that you wish that you had married into a family with a beach house. This is not time to chat. Get in and get out.
I dread making this appointment and will put it off as long as possible. After making it I also obsess the weeks leading up to it about how terrible it is going to be. So maybe it was better that it was a flyby this year. It cut out all of those extra weeks of anxiety.
Afterwards I treated myself to a large deli sandwich and a brownie (so much better than the carb free lifestyle I have been trying to perfect!). I am actually proud of myself right now. It is over. For a whole year. Well, after they mail you your congratulatory post card (Trust me I will compulsively check the mail every day and not answer any numbers I don’t know for fear of bad news). But I feel more accomplished from this trip to the doctors than I do with anything I have done at work this week.
Now that is sad.
I must add, I really do like the new doctor. She has a great bedside manner and seems really straight forward. As Aubrey referred to her – she is a One Stop Shop. It may be a crass way to put things in reference to ones vagina … but she is totally right.
Sneak attack gyno = Two Birds. One Stone.
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