The Post in Which I Find Out That My Vagina is Delightful

So, I had to bite the bullet and go have a Pap test today. I have to confess it's been over six years since my last one. I have no excuse for that except to say that, well, I was busy. My, time does fly when one is not having a Pap test....

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See, I just had to get a new doctor recently, and she's a gal. I simply couldn't go to my old one for anything below the waist. He was so darn handsome, (black silky hair and piercing ice-blue eyes) that it would have felt like a date.

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But lately, I was starting to feel incredibly negligent for being so cavalier with my health, not to mention starting to worry that perhaps I might be growing moss in my nether regions, so I got off my ass and made the appointment. And it was fine, truly it was. Sure, the doctor was an hour and a half late and I spent that entire time in a crowded waiting room with screaming babies and a drooling toddler that kept trying to steal my purse.

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When it was finally my turn, the first thing she did was weigh me. I'm certainly not about to tell you all what I weigh, but I will tell you that the weighing was followed by a lecture on staying away from processed carbs. I didn't feel the need to tell her that it was mostly chips and beer that were responsible for the recent pudge. (I am, unfortunately, still on a post-injury Pity Party for one. It's an all-you-can-eat affair...)

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I had to strip down to nothing but my socks, which feels ridiculous. I would have taken off the socks too but I had no logical reason to. So here I am, wrapped in a paper sheet in my anklets and counting the holes in the ceiling tiles. First came the breast exam. Not all doctors do that, and personally, I hate it. I'm not sure why. Luckily for me the twins still sit pretty much where they are supposed to, and I didn't need to pick them up out of my armpits for the exam. The Verdict: No lumps, but I already knew that because hubby helpfully examines them on an almost daily basis.

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Next comes the up-close and personal with my Lady Parts. The doctor retrieved the speculum from the freezer where she keeps it (I swear this is true) and commands me to spread 'em. No, wider. No, WIDER. And while you're at it, wiggle yourself down until your entire flabby ass is hanging over the edge of the table. When they can look in your vag and see your nose hair, finally it's wide enough.

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Next comes the reaming with the miniature BBQ brush. That feels precisely like you would imagine it, in case any men out there are wondering. You count the tiles again and hope that you are "fresh enough". Once half your twat has been dug out and slathered on a glass slide, all that remains is a hand in your box and one on your stretch marks while they feel the innards between. Then you're done! You can shrug off the paper blanket and retrieve your panties from where you hid them, get dressed and make small talk with the doc while attempting to regain your dignity.

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The Verdict: My vagina is amazing, a pink and perfect glowing specimen of health. Never before has this doctor ever seen womanly bits 'n pieces so vibrant and alive. (I'm paraphrasing, but only slightly, I swear.) Now, as long as I don't turn out to be riddled with cancer, I can go about my merry way for another few years.

The message here, ladies, despite the unpleasantness, is GET YER BOX EXAMINED! Cervical cancer is a silent killer, and I know we all have lots of folks in our lives that need us around. Don't be embarassed, either...you know how many sets of private parts the average doctor sees in a week? Yours aren't that special.

Bonus Hilarity: I had to work up until the time of my appointment, so I went looking this morning for some Playtex Fresh Wipes to take to work with me, to give myself the old "Hooker Bath" before the appointment. I was in a rush, and simply couldn't find them. So, I took the only other thing I could find: An Oil of Olay Age-Defying Cleansing Cloth. Tonight, I have the coochie of an eighteen year old girl. Just wait until Bob finds out....

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I leave you this Friday evening with a shot of my cat and the gift he brought for me this evening....

I didn't have the heart to tell him I had ground mole for lunch...

Peace and Pussies!