Why I Hate the Gynecologist: Part 2

It was a normal day, just like any other, when my phone buzzed atop my desk. I picked it up and read the dreaded reminder I had set a few weeks prior: Gynecologist Appointment - 2 Hours.

Dammit. As if this week wasn't bad enough already, I now have to drop what I am doing (which has a deadline of basically yesterday) and drive across town to the visit the wahoo doctor. Although I switched doctors a while back, these appointments aren't any more appealing than giving a stranger a foot massage or sharing your toothbrush.

Anyway, as requested I showed up to my appointment 15 minutes early to complete the same paperwork I do every year. They claim that "things change" in a year and I silently think to myself, "yeah, well my hate for you and everyone in this office hasn't."

I smiled, sat down and completed the paperwork.

A woman opened the door that leads to the exam rooms and announced a name that I thought was "Katie." I have never been called back so quickly and was pleasantly surprised.

Another woman and I both stood up, looking quizzically at each other. The woman who opened the door said, in a very cheerful manner, "OH NO! Heidi?" Smiling very widely at us both, she wondered who would pull the short stick.

I did.

Looks like I've been listening to the Texan accent for far too long. Heidi sounds a whole lot like the Texas-accented "Katie." I returned to my seat. Looks like they are on their usual time schedule - late.

I scrolled through emails and messages as I waited to be called back. I was also doing kegels (or one really long kegel) in hopes of warding off a trip to the bathroom so I didn't miss my name being called - if they ever decided to call it.

"Katie."

FINALLY.

I walked through the door and the first thing I see is the scale. Crap. Should have gone to the bathroom.

I stepped on the scale, cursing at myself in my mind. This scale must be a magic, physicians-assistant-only scale because my weight appeared and she recorded it without me ever seeing it.

"Did it work or did I break it? haha!" ... She didn't think that was funny.

"It got your weight. You're 131."

EXCUSE ME. I have my boots on, a scarf and a full bladder so you can go ahead and remove 5 pounds. Seriously though.

For some reason I don't think she took me seriously.

We proceed to the exam room where she asks me if I need to use the restroom. I do. I excuse myself and release the two cups of coffee and one bottle of water that I had before the appointment. See - 5 pounds.

When I returned, she took my blood pressure and asked me the same questions that I just answered on the paperwork in the waiting room. I answered with a dull voice.

"This is so fun isn't it?"

I could tell she was being sarcastic but I still didn't appreciate it. No lady. This isn't fun. It's miserable. Is it fun asking patients if this is fun? Do you and your coworkers laugh about it on your lunch break?

Just for that, I'm leaving my socks on even though you told me to get completely undressed. Take that!

When she leaves I am left to sit there in the cold exam room, naked under the gown, thinking and having day terrors about what's going to happen when the doctor comes into the room.

Lucky for me, 45 minutes more minutes passed and the doctor was no where to be found. Frustrated, I stood up, got dressed and left the room. I walked out to the waiting room and up to the front desk, passing 4 employees on my way who all failed to realize I just walked out of the exam room they left me in.

I told the woman at the desk I needed to reschedule. Her response?

"Ok. Are you too early?"

I yelled at her in my mind. "No, broad! You checked me in an hour ago and I still have yet to be seen."

Although, in reality I said, "No, I have been waiting for an hour and can't miss anymore work. I'll need to call later because I don't have time to schedule something here. Please make sure I'm not billed."

I walked out. Frustrated that I drove across town, wasted my lunch hour and time I needed at work to complete projects. The worst part? Now I have to go back in a week or two.

It's just not right that the wahoo doctor can cause this much stress without even using the speculum.

I hate the gynecologist.


Alternate ending:

Katie storms out of the office, frustrated at the situation. On her way back to work, she has nothing to do but think.

You don't have to go to the wahoo doctor unless you have at least one sexual partner right? That means (in my case) a man attached to the equipment.

Hmm..

Before returning to work she stops at Susie's Adult Store and leaves with her new and improved equipment and a "take that wahoo doctor" kind of attitude!

Here's to the single life - a life of pure happiness and no gynecologist appointments.