Poked, Prodded and Slimed

I can think of a lot of places I'd rather have been yesterday morning than the gynecologist's office. I know it's something I have to do every year, but as I get older I have noticed a few subtle changes. My appointment was for 10:10 and at 10:50 I was still in the exam room. All that waiting gave me time to notice a couple of things. First of all it was freezing. Sitting there in little more than the equivalent of paper towels draped over my shoulders and lap, my feet and hands began turning purple. I started to put my feet in the warming drawer, but the speculum was in my way. Second, I also noticed that the instrument used to swab my cute little cervix was no longer an innocuous longer than average Q-tip. I was horrified to notice the little cotton tip had been replaced with something that resembled a grill scraper. Really....why? Third, I could do without the small talk before the exam, too. If they are going to require me to dredge up the last year of my life in order to make polite conversation then they need to be serving alcohol. Seriously, you could wait with all the other ladies in their paper towel ensembles, and get hammered—at least you'd be warm. Lastly, I really have an issue with the amount of KY required to insert anything into my vagina. They could have driven a tractor trailer in there, and turned the damned thing around with the amount of lubricant used. When it's all over, and you've been poked, prodded and slimed, common courtesy would be to leave something to wipe up the Exxon Valdiz spill between your legs. There wasn't even a box of low grade tissue, so I figured the paper towel dress I had on would have to suffice. What I really needed was another shower. 

I had blood work done this year which I don't normally do, but my mom told me to, and I try and always do what she says. I'm still 12 inside when it comes to her. I really wish people would listen to me when I tell them how to draw my blood. No, I don't have a degree in medicine, but neither should you if you can't do it right. My veins play hide-n-seek when they try to get stuck...can't say that I blame them really...and it takes some amount of skill to get the stick on the first try, apparently. Well, of course the nurse ignored me and guess what happened? I'm sitting there with a needle in my arm and no blood spilling out. I wanted to bitch slap her when she was finished, but I remained cool. I can't wait for next year, I get to have my first mammogram. Now, that should be something to blog about!!