Checking in with Down There

As I mentioned in my last post, I went to the gynecologist the other day (or as she’s known to some*, the va-jay-jay doctor). I have heard that some porn contains elaborate scenarios involving visits to the gynecologist. Clearly, these scenarios were dreamed up by men, because I think that most women will agree that going to the gynecologist is completely unsexy.

My doctor is pretty cool and she makes the experience as pleasant as possible. This time wasn’t too bad. My lady parts are apparently in fine working order.

This year’s nurse was a huge improvement over last year’s, the one who didn’t seem to notice that I don’t weight 224 pounds.** When she asked if I used street drugs, I said (honest answer), “No.”*** And every year I wonder, does anyone actually answer “yes” to that question? I know you aren’t supposed to lie to the doctor, but I can imagine most people don’t want to deal with any Judgy McJudgerson attitudes.

I asked my doctor about a minor concern that I’ve had recently. I’ve noticed a few stray hairs on my face, some in potentially mustache form. Luckily, there are only a few of them, and they are blonde, so they’ve pretty unnoticeable. She said it was probably nothing to worry about since I don’t have any other odd symptoms and that this is just “something that happens” as you get older. “Older”? That’s a dagger in the heart. She went on to say that it would probably be worse if I weren’t on the Pill. So, going off the Pill to get pregnant would make me both fat and hairy? Fantastic. Another reason not to reproduce. I told her I wasn’t too concerned about it, since “the hairs are blonde, which is kind of funny because I’m not blonde anywhere else.” Then I felt sort of dumb for saying that, because considering where she had just been looking, she knows quite well that I’m not blonde anywhere else.

*And by “some,” I mean “me.”
**I’m actually considering embracing the whole “massive weight loss” thing, because then, when I look in the mirror and think, “Princess, you really need to lose five pounds,” I can reply, “What the hell are you worried about, princess? You’ve already lost almost 100 pounds. Go have that ice cream sundae. You totally deserve it.”
***Every year when I’m asked this question, I consider saying something along the lines of, “Yeah, but only coke and smack. No crack. Because crack is whack.” I never say this, because I am guessing medical personnel probably don’t consider drugs a laughing matter.