If I'm not the most interesting person around, then I don't know who is.

Yesterday I had to go in for my annual crotch well-woman visit.  Having already gotten my tits in a wringer in June, this was the last stop on the preventative care train for the year.  It's complicated.  Going to the doctor.  There's a lot of planning and preparation that has to go into it.  The painting of the toe nails, the shaving of the legs, cracked-heel cream application, clothing that can be easily and quickly stripped and then put back on.  Wait.A.Fucking.Minute.  Is this a check up with a professional?  Or a fucking date? 

You see why the anticipation of it haunts me each year.

Appointment was at 3:00.  I arrived at 2:50 to be polite and fill out any necessary paperwork.  At 3:05, after patiently standing at the receptionist desk (I was the only person in line) - I was finally greeted.  The phones were ringing off the hook and the two receptionists were both answering phones AND dealing with the patients as they checked in.  Total inefficiency if you ask me.  It seems to me one should do one thing and the other, the other.  But maybe that's how the day started and then the gal dealing with patients got bored and answered the phone to help the other gal out and then all hell broke loose because they could never find their separate rhythms again?  I'm not sure - but it was definitely a cluster fuck.

At 3:10 I sat down and started filling out my paperwork.  At 3:20 I was called back.  WOO HOO!!!  This is going quick!  I was VERY pleasantly surprised.  The nurse informed me they had "gone live" on a new computer system just that morning (glory for me!) and asked for my patience while she attempted to use it and order up the proper labs and such.  At 3:30, she instructed me to change into that god-foresaken gown (although it WAS cloth and had ties so I was VERY appreciative of that because I H.A.T.E. the otherwise paper gowns that leave you fairly well exposed no matter how you twist them and your body to form a shield).  Then she left the room.

I had my iPhone with me - so I checked all my email, sent off a few responses to people at work.  Checked Facebook.  Three times.  Played 3 games of Scramble.  Then decided to take a nap.  At 4:15 I was greeted by the doctor.  She asked me if I had gotten in a nap?  NO - the god damned light in here is too bright.  Those were my exact words.  You know what she said to me?  "You should have fucking turned it off"  Those were her exact words. 

And that is why I love that doctor and tolerate her shoddily run office.  I was no longer irritated I'd been there for 75 minutes - 45 of which were being held hostage in a skimpy cloth gown in a tiny, brightly lit room.  We ran through my very long list of perceived medical issues.  Although they are real - symptoms - of something.  Menopause, maybe?  I don't know.  That's what I want her to tell me.  And when I got done running down the list.  She looked me square in the eye and said, "So really you have about 1 week a month where you can lead a quality life?" 

Well, now that made it all seem so..... P.A.T.H.E.T.I.C.  So I back-peddled, and explained that the issues are just more annoying and nagging than they are debilitating and really my quality of life isn't that bad because I am a survivor and I just plow through - there is no rest for the weary in my world.  She wasn't buying it.  And went into this long lecture about sleeping and various surgical options and hormonal therapies and this, that and the other.  And my head was spinning and I was regretting I'd told her my problems because clearly she did not "get" me and wasn't aware that I believe in self-healing and herbal therapy and am petrified of medical procedures and that I may well just be a tad crazy.  And then, she caught my attention and brought me back into her world.

"You know - they should have a flusher on the female body - so when we're done with having babies and no longer need those parts - we just push the flusher and it rids our bodies of all those parts - because all they do is cause us grief when we're no longer using them."  DAMN STRAIGHT!!!  So, she did get me!!  A woman after my own heart.  I've been saying that for years.  Of course, I said that prior to getting pregnant with the blonde and had I pushed that flusher after the brunette, I wouldn't have the blonde - and wow.  My life would be pretty incomplete having never known the blonde.  But anyway - now that I'm somewhere in my 40's - I'm seriously done with these parts and she's right.  They're a real pain in the ass.  And when I look at it from her perspective - I guess I do only have 1 week a month when I feel normal.  And sleep well.  And don't experience all these other bizarre symptoms.  And I'm pleasant to be around. 

I mentioned that I'd had Typhoid Fever last week and that the husband had also had it but he had it far worse than I.  She laughed and said she already knew he was more sick than me and I didn't have to bring that to her attention.  I told her that I had suggested he just go on to the hospital or maybe even the funeral home.  She started laughing, then stood up and started emulating a scene from Monty Python's "The Holy Grail" and chanting - BRING OUTCHER DEAD!!!  BRING OUTCHER DEAD!!!"  I really thought I might just pee my pants from laughing - right there.  On the exam table.  In the doctor's office. 

So I agreed to have some follow-up blood work done to rule out anything serious.  And although I'm opposed to pharmaceuticals (EXCEPT Xanax) - I agreed to take a script for some hormone therapy home with me in the event I can come to terms with actually filling the damned thing and ingesting the drugs.  They're actually just low hormone birth control pills - which concerned me since I smoke.  But when I asked her about this concern - she basically told me that those warnings are for dipshits that don't recognize the signs of clotting and get help early - and that there are just as many non-smokers on birth control that have problems as there are smokers and that they're just targeting the smokers with their warnings. AHA!  She's on the same conspiracy theory band wagon as I am!  YAY!!!  She's the type of gal I want to hang out on the deck with and drink beers!  I might invite her over the next time I see her! 

Bottom line -

I shaved my knees for nothing  - because they put a drape over them during the exam and NEVER commented on my uber smooth knee caps. 

She did NOT ask me out on a date as I feared she might - so all that preparation was likely unnecessary.

She did not immediately check me in to a hospital for my stated symptoms - not even the nut-house.  So I must be fairly normal.

I was out of there by 5 p.m. - Just 2 short hours - that's a record!

It appears I'm not going to die.  At least not immediately.