It's official. The recession has hit my gyno's office hard.

Now THIS is how my routine gynecological checkups USUALLY go. However, my appointment yesterday was quite different. Well, a large part of it was anyway. No worries. My stuff still totally smelled like Toll house cookies. That will never change.

Anyway, soon after I was walked back to my room, I realized that this office was doing some serious cutting back. It was pretty apparent when I was greeted with this...

Right about now you are probably asking yourself what the hell is that. Right? I figured as much.

How about a pop quiz? Is it

A. A dinner napkin

B. A maxi-pad

C. 2 ply of Charmin double roll

D. A band-aid

E. None of the above

I already know that anyone who reads this blog is a freaking genius, so the obvious answer was E, right? Exactly.

That, my friends, is apparently what is supposed to be considered a GOWN these days. I know that, because I was instructed to put it on and leave it open to the front. Thank God I was forewarned, otherwise I would have most likely tried to wipe my ass with it.

So after the assistant left the room, I began to inspect the piece of confetti that I was supposed to wear. At first I thought it must have been folded like origami or something, because the rest of the damn thing was surely there, it just wasn't visible to the naked eye. So I picked it up and began shaking it, hoping that the rest of it would neatly unfold.

Yeah, not so much.

Then I began my usual internal dialogue with myself. When this happens, it's typically always between the logical side of my personality, and of course the irrational side.

Irrational Candice or IC holding the paper "gown" "What the fuck is this?"

Logical Candice or LC "It's the gown, moron. She told you to put it on and leave it open to the front. Remember? She also told you to cover up with that paper sheet over there, but I doubt you heard her because you were so focused on the gown or lack thereof."

IC- "This is SO not a gown. It's a goddamn dicki! What the hell is going on here? Last year I had a full paper gown. I mean, I could barely fit in it, but at least everything from my nipple line down was covered!

LC- "Use the paper sheet to cover up with. It will be alright."

IC- "Suck it, LC! Look!! This paper sheet is approximately the size of a fucking index card. I can't even wrap it around me. If I sit on this bed like I should, anyone who walks into this room is going to get a full view of my naked ass when they walk in here!"

LC- "She's about to look into your vagina. I'm sure your naked ass is the least of her concerns."

IC-" It's the principle of the matter. I don't want to sit here with my tits and ass hanging out all over the place. I want to be properly covered up. I want my dignity to remain intact for christ's sake! I've got feelings here!"

It was at this point I heard a knock at the door. It was the Dr. I had to tell her to come back because I wasn't undressed yet probably due to the fact that I was too busy just staring at that poor excuse for a fucking paper gown. Then the shock hit me. Usually I have at least 2 hours to get changed. It hadn't even been 20 minutes! Wow, I was suddenly impressed with the timely manner in which this appointment was going to go down.

Then when she came in, I was standing by the bed facing the door so that my ass wasn't in full view. I was holding my dicki vest closed with one hand, and I was holding my paper sheet in front of me with the other hand. I kind of felt like a matador there for a minute, with the only difference being that my sheet was pink and not red, and there was no way in hell I was going to wave it in front of her so that she would charge me, because I wouldn't dare risk exposing myself, but It was still sort of cool anyway. I also got an odd look when she walked in, but I didn't give a rats ass. I was somewhat covered up, and I had a sliver of my dignity left to my name. Score one for the home team!

The rest of the visit went smoothly, and it wasn't because she used 8oz of KY either. I think that's another area of apparent cutbacks. I didn't find myself needing to use a depends diaper to catch all of the residual KY for the rest of the day.

One thing I will say that's probably most annoying about these types of visits, is the amount of dialogue I have to hear about what is about to happen.

"Okay, I'm going to touch you here and here. My hands may be cold. Okay, I 'm going to be inserting the speculum now and you will feel alot of pressure. Are you ready? Just take some deep breaths and try to relax. Are you doing okay? I'm going to open the speculum now. Just relax..."

I got that like 20 times before she inserted the damn thing. You would think she was about to inspect me with a 10ft retracting device or something.

I do appreciate the warning and all, but here is my philosophy. If I can manage to handle a PENIS, which is hopefully a helluva lot bigger than that piece of crap speculum that you're using, I'm pretty sure I've got this in the bag. So shut up, stick it in, and let's get on with our lives.

So there you have it. My yearly vaginal inspection in a nutshell. Aren't you glad I'm willing to let you all in on some of the most intimate aspects of my life?

Stay tuned for my mammogram visit that's coming up.

Dear god I'm old!

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