A Woman’s Most Hated Annual Appointment

This blog post is part of the BOAW Blogfest 2018, organized by August McLaughlin, founder of the “Girl Boner” brand.

To check out more blog posts, follow the fest and maybe win a fun price, please go to August McLaughlin’s blog and check out the blog fest here:  http://www.augustmclaughlin.com/beauty-woman-blogfest-vii/

I’m still not sure in what category this post belongs. In a way, it’s a health post more than a beauty post. But since beauty and health belong together, it might be both. Then I found out it is a quite ‘clinical’ post… more medical than anything else, and still: at the end I’m talking about a woman’s most private body parts, which makes it very much non-sexual, but still enough to probably belong into the GB version of Augusts blog fest. And that’s why it’s here.

What I said before I find essential to my life. Health and beauty belong together in my opinion. When I feel like a piece of seven-year-old cheese, having a fever, a horrible headache or suffer from constipation, it doesn’t matter how much makeup I plaster my face with, I’m grumpy and unwell, and I won’t be able to shine. I’m miserable, and it shows. A radiant woman is beautiful, a woman who takes care of herself is beautiful. A radiant woman is one who’s healthy and shows it. A woman like this is beautiful. To be and stay healthy, and to make sure we discover early enough if that’s not the case, occasional visits to the doctor belong to our life. But there is this one appointment, no matter how healthy we keep us – this one annual visit – we all hate from the bottom of our hearts.

There is this one picture that’s burned into our thoughts, memories, and brains, forever. That chair. The most hated chair on Earth – and no, it’s not the one at the dentist. It’s the one that’s about 1000 times worse than the dentist’s most valuable possession.

In every woman’s life, there is this one annual medical examination that turns the most peaceful nun into a maddening fury: Her visit to the gynecologist.

You sit in the doctor’s office, talk to your gynecologist for a couple of minutes before he tells you: “Go over there and undress down below.”

You disappear behind that wall and take your pants or skirt and undies off. And I keep asking myself two questions: “My doctor sees everything in only a few moments. What the hell is this wall for?” And: “If ‘undressing my lower regions’ mean everything – what the hell am I going to do with my socks?

Then you take place in that really, really embarrassing chair. You half lean, half sit there in the most unsettling position. And then your gynecologist tells you the first of two standard sentences: “Could you please slide down closer to me.” I always feel like telling him: “Hey, Mister. If I slide down even a couple of inches closer, I’m going to sit on your face! – But who the hell cares. I’m already laying here in the weirdest position you can imagine… go ahead and stick into me whatever you feel like.” Whoops… of course I’d never say that, but I guess, the women who are going through this regularly know what I mean.

He does whatever he has to do to find out if everything is okay. I doubt I need to describe the confusing and often cold touch of the instruments and the uncomfortable feelings. Of course, this examination is necessary and often lifesaving! I am grateful to have the chance to go to these examinations be lucky enough my doctor screens for early detection of a disease or illness! But this doesn’t make it any better.

In the end, the gynecologist usually checks your breasts, which is a good and necessary thing to do as well. But it’s not less embarrassing than the upsetting position in that chair.
I’m positioned there like a stranded whale, and the next thing I hear is the second, deeply disturbing standard sentence: “I’m sorry, my hands are cold.” And here I am, laying as still as I can, thinking with all my mighty thoughts: “Don’t’ get hard, you nipples… relax… Do. Not. Get. Hard.” – Usually, no focus is going to help to avoid the unavoidable. The doctor’s hands are cold! Dammit.

After the examination, you get dressed again, which is probably happening much faster than the undressing, even more, if you decided to keep your socks on.

At my last examination, my gynecologist told me: “You know, I realized you’re my patient for quite some time… let’s see: It’s over 20 years now.” I nodded and looked at him, replying: “Yes, I know. And this makes you officially the longest relationship I was ever in.” He smirked. “Business cooperation you mean?” And my answer was: “Business, yeah, sure, haha. What other man gets that close to me?” He laughed loudly.

And yes, I think it’s a good thing to pick a gynecologist with a good sense of humor!


Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com


32 thoughts on “A Woman’s Most Hated Annual Appointment

  1. I’m a very bad Kitt. I haven’t been going regularly. But thanks for reminding that I need to, that I’m not alone in that whole up close and personal awkwardness, and that although it’s my vag…to him who sees a ton daily in all sorts of different glories, it’s still just a vagina. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My doctor told me once, that to him this is like to an internist the ‘inner organs’, to a cardiologist, the hearts, to a dermatologist the skin. It’s part of the body. You’re right, ‘just a vagina’. And still it’s an awkward doctors appointment. LOL

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Another advantage to aging is fewer, if any, gynecologist appointments or that is how my primary care physician views it. Yet, your blog post completely captured what it means to assume that position. Certainly, a sense of humor helps.


    Liked by 3 people

    1. No matter how old I get, it won’t change the awkward feeling. My primary care physician warned me that I am still supposed to go annually, even when I’m getting older. it seems doctors don’t agree on that. LOL And yes, a sense of humor definitely helps.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. I have horror stories from gyno visits, but thankfully good stories too. I do dread going. At least when it’s an unfamiliar doctor, and since our insurance changed a lot, it has been. Ugh! Your post made me laugh though. It reminds me of a piece from The Vagina Monologues. It does seem we could make this whole experience a bit more pleasant if we tried. LOL

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Oh my, where did you find that picture?

    I’ve been lucky for the last decade. I go to a nurse practitioner who is female, my age, and has many of the same chronic ailments that I have. She also has a great sense of humor. I don’t dread these visits anymore, because of her. What I dread is that it will eventually occur to her that she should retire!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. My experience exactly, I have a female nurse practitioner (through Kaiser) and I love her! Makes that bi-annual appt (or every three years, due to their relaxing of the pap smear rules) much better.

      Liked by 2 people

  5. Okay, I realize I’m a bit of a goofball about these things, but I actually usually enjoy going to the gynecologist’s office! I have frightened one or two off with my overabundance of questions and observations, however, LOL.

    Finding someone we’re comfortable seeing for something so up-close-and-personal really is important — and I know many folks who really, really dislike pelvic exams for super valid reasons. History of abuse, sadly, is one. 😦 Hopefully as our world becomes more compassionate and accepting, of sexuality included, we won’t have to worry as much about the downsides or discomforts.

    Topics like this one are so important – thanks for bringing it to the fest, AJ!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. I admit, it probably might have been easy to me to blog about an important but also ‘a bit embarrassing’ or ‘unusual’ topic like this one. I could imagine for a woman with abuse in her past it would be hard to combine this medical exam with humor and I would understand.
      If I had the chance to bring a smile on a few women’s faces and make them remember this post and chuckle when being draped on that chair, then I did quite well. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  6. I remember my first gynecologist visit. I must be 24. She was a female and very polite. (I’ve heard the other horror stories too where they are so rude and consider giving marriage advice and judging them is their right.)
    Even though she was polite, I was so nervous and choked telling her my symptoms and undressing. I felt as if it was my fault that my vagina had troubles.
    In my country, the % of female gynecologists is more.
    This was a such a delight to read. I hope my next gynae has a sense of humor. Often, doctors are so dry and don’t get my jokes. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Your humor is much appreciated with this post, Aurora. Not a woman’s favorite subject to read or write about. The stirrups are always awkward and having to slide closer to the edge even more awkward. As I was reading your post, I remembered a visit to my family doctor one time when my two oldest kids were about two and three years old. No, I wouldn’t have taken them to a gyn visit, so maybe the prior patient had her yearly checkup. I remember the stirrups were hanging down, low enough that each of the kids was able to fit their face into one, as if they were wearing masks and looking at each other and laughing. I was sitting on the exam table. The doctor came in just then and he thought the kids were hilarious for putting their faces against the stirrups. He’d never seen any other kids do that. Ha! So I got off the subject, but that’s the only happy memory I have of stirrups, not counting childbirth. When we’re giving birth, none of those things matter, except for getting through the labor pains and delivering a healthy baby. I had all four of mine naturally. That was the thing back then. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. The thought of an epidural makes me cringe!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I loved your humor in this post. You made the annual visit so much more palatable, might I add desireable? 🙂 Yes health is intrinsic to beauty. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  9. You really hit the nail on the head! Most of us dread that yearly appointment more than any other annual obligation. I know I sure do! Although I always try to pick a female gynecologist it doesn’t make me any less nervous. I wish I had your sense of humor! Maybe I will try to crack a couple of jokes at my next appointment to lighten the mood. Thank you so much for this post, Aurora. Again, it’s good to know I’m not alone.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. We’re definitely not alone Erica. There are so many others.
      And I found out that with a bit of humor so many things are easier to go through. Crack your jokes next time! And let me know how your gynecologist took it. LOL


  10. I loved the midwife we had in Montana, when we were pregnant with our son. She was a lesbian – not sure if that made a difference, but I strongly suspect it did. She put us at ease, made the exam as pleasant as possible, warmed the instruments, and chatted and joked throughout. If I could, I would clone her and only see her, forever! =D

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I can barely imagine what you gentlemen are going through, Carl. But we all are happy when we’re healthy and yes, that one sentence, the cancer has not returned, would make each one of us dancing. Thanks so much for this view on things, Carl.

      Liked by 1 person

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