O-B-G-Y-FRIEND

Yes, it is ironic that I am married to a doctor and yet I hate going to one. I don't actually "hate" the person, I just strongly dislike playing the part of the patient. Because of this, I tend to avoid them like the plague and only see one when it is absolutely necessary.

Last week, I was officially two years overdue for my "annual" exam. I dread this exam the same way I dread picking up dog poop in the rain, singing Karaoke at a bar, or having a volatile diarrhea episode on the side of Mt. Adams.

Compounding matters is the fact that I'm actually friends with my GYNY doctor and it is beyond embarrassing to have her fingers up my vagina as we catch up on small talk. But, you can't escape the importance of prevention when you cohabitate with a physician, so I knew I needed to bite the bullet, coif the goods, and schedule an appointment with my O-B-G-Y-FRIEND.

Wednesday it was. It was an incredibly chaotic morning to say the least. I woke up late - as I often do - and tried to make coffee, breakfast, and lunch for my husband before he ran out the door at 6:30. Meanwhile all three kids are bright-eyed and bushy tailed, mad as hell they haven't eaten breakfast yet, and my oldest son is screaming for me to watch him poop (for some reason, he can't perform without an audience). Tango, the insane Golden Retriever puppy is humping our youngest, and my daughter is throwing a hormone-induced tantrum over the botched "side" ponytail.
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Because there is a God, and miracles do happen, I did get everyone out the door and to school on time - but I was dirty. No shower. No brushing of my pearly whites. No make-up. No coffee. No breakfast. No Likey. Normally this would not be all that tragic, but I refuse to pay my O-B-G-Y-FRIEND a visit without giving my parts some time and attention. A shower was simply not a convenience today, it was a necessity. 

As I raced home from dropping the kids off at school, I knew I only had about 20 minutes to make everything right again. I showered, shaved, put on a cute pair of undies (not sure why, it's not like she sees them), and doused myself with yummy smelling body lotion. I figure she has got to see some real doozies throughout the day...Why not give her a little something to look forward to? Okay. That's probably overstating things a bit. But at least she wouldn't have to "dread" my cervical scraping. Let her dread one of the other women in that waiting room - not me.

I felt a bit nostalgic just being there. With more than 11 pregnancies and 3 actual kids in the prior 5 years, her office had become my home away from home. Although this time, I wasn't going to have to pee in a cup, endure a vaginal ultrasound, or potentially hear bad news about another pregnancy. I simply had to undress, fashion a lovely gown that opened in the front, get my boobies massaged and warm up the cold speculum. Know that I think about it - it almost sounds spa-like.

Soon my O-B-G-Y-FRIEND knocked on the door (after a 30 minute, long and cold wait). We spent the first few minutes catching up.

Me: How are the kids?
Her: Great! How are yours?
Me: Great!
Her: Bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla....
Me: Bla, bla, bla, bla...
Her: yadda, yadda, yadda...
Me: Right back at ya...
Her: Okay, now I'm going to insert my fingers into your vagina.

 Holy Jesus. I'm glad the rest of my friends are stay-at-home moms.