Apparently I'm running behind on my own personal tune up

I'm not sure what's going on, but as I get older I'm less gung-ho about visiting various medical professionals for routine check-ups and whatnot.

Gone are the days when I would rush out to the dentist every 6 months like clockwork to have my teeth cleaned. I have also apparently gotten over my hypochondriac tendencies that caused me to visit my primary care physician yearly for physicals in my early 20's, because OH MY GOD, I was surely going to die of this, that, or the other debilitating disease.

Then of course there is my own personal favorite routine check-up. The one I like to refer to as "getting checked underneath my hood". That's right. All the ladies know what I'm talkin' about. The dreaded PAP SMEAR.

Let me tell you something. You just haven't LIVED until you go to your OBGYN and place your vagina on display, while you simultaneously have odd and uncomfortable conversations about the weather, shopping, (I have a female OBGYN by the way) or something equally mundane and stupid. This is pretty much how this particular visit goes for ME.

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Now I'm sure some women would go in for their yearly visit without so much as a single solitary consideration for hygiene, but I do NOT happen to fall into that category. When my legs part on that examination table, I want the heavens to also part and the birds to sing. My OBGYN needs to be wafted with the aroma of.... Hmm. I'm drawing a blank here. What smells REALLY good? All I can think of right now is freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Frankly, it would be weird if my vagina smelled like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, so how about freshly cut flowers or something nice like that? You know, the kind that don't smell like disease or rotting fish. I'm sorry, I'm having Vietnam type flashbacks to roughly 80% of the pelvic exams that I chaperone in the ER, so please excuse me. I do apologize.

Anyway, this requires a thorough cleaning. More thorough that I would normally do when I don't plan on having my vagina 2 inches away from a virtual strangers face. So after 2 hours in a hot scalding shower, I place the bandages where necessary and I make my way to get my yearly inspection of the lady bits.

The first part of the visit includes some 400 pound woman taking my vital signs, and then inquiring if I have a history of high blood pressure. I typically respond with something like this.

"Well, I don't usually have high blood pressure. There's just something about knowing that #1. You are about to put my fat ass on a scale and #2. I'm about to have my vagina stared at, poked at, and generally felt up. If I were guessing, that probably has quite a bit to do with my increased blood pressure at this time."

Either giggles or glaring generally ensue at this point, and then I'm walked back to a room cold enough to hang fucking meat. Then I'm asked to strip all of my clothes off and replace them with some lovely paper gown that wouldn't even fit Mary Kate or Ashley. I'm typically told that the Dr will be right in, and I'm pointed in the direction of the magazine rack for my viewing pleasure.

9 hours later, my OBGYN comes into the room to examine my hypothermic and frostbitten vagina. Small talk is in full force now as I scoot my ass to the very end of the table. The most degrading part of this whole process is when I have to put my feet in those horrible stirrups. I always want to ask her if she could just do me Indian style, but I reluctantly put my SOCKED feet in the stirrups anyway. At this point I secretly wonder if she's thinking to herself that I've got the best smelling vagina that she's ever examined. Then I know without a shadow of a doubt that's EXACTLY what she's thinking, and I begin to relax a bit.

Then we have "This is cold" "You're going to feel some pressure" and "Does this feel uncomfortable at all?" convo, and then I'm pretty much done. It's probably good that it doesn't last any longer than that because I'm always afraid my vagina is either going to get sunburned, or develop melanoma from the fucking fry lamp that she had placed one centimeter away from my "good girl" during the examination. Needless to say, going home with a hypothermic or frostbitten vagina is no longer an issue.

Next, the doc basically says "See ya in a year assuming you aren't dying!", and then I get to finally wipe things off and go home, where I then spend the rest of the day wondering if she left an open bottle of KY stuffed up in my vagina, because seriously? What. The. Fuck?

So I guess after all of that, it's no wonder that I've been putting this visit off for so long. I refuse to apologize for the fact that I don't have that woman on speed dial.

I would much rather stay current on facials, highlights, and mani/pedi's. I mean, that's technically upkeep as well, right?

Alright fine, damnit! I'll make the freaking call! One physical. One teeth cleaning. And one check up under the hood, coming right up!

Shoot me.

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