.:.

.: Pap Smears & Chocolate Cake :.

Ah, another day, another annual check up of the female plumbing. Is it just me or does it seem like the things we hate most in life are the things we stare in the face all too often. Mammograms, the flu shot, annual Pap smear. The things that we would love to put off for just one more day seem to creep up on us quicker and quicker the more we try to avoid them.

I just had my lovely annual exam on Thursday. The same one that I have been dreading since last year. It seems like every time I leave my doctors office I have the same thought, �Yippee!!!!�. I don�t have to see her for a whole �nother year!� It�s not just the exam that is so traumatizing, for any of you that have not had the wonderful opportunity of experiencing this first hand. The whole experience from start to finish makes me clammy.

First you have to sit in this over floralled waiting room that they think is making you more comfortable when in actuality it is just making you more nauseous and nervous. Then they make you wait for what seems like half the morning until they call you in to the back room to be weighed and �empty your bladder�. Once that is all said and done it�s wham, bam, thank you Mam - take off all your clothes and put on the �robe� (yeah right, you mean tissue paper with strings and a cheesy blue floral pattern?) opening in the front. Don�t you even want to know my name first??? And it is always nice that there is no lock on the door so anyone could walk in. So I am hastily trying to undress and put on my tissue paper and cover up what I can before someone sees me. Ironic, huh?

As I sat there, waiting for my doctor to come in, the prolonging of the inevitable made it all the less enjoyable. I started to feel sweaty. Oh god, do I have to pee again? I think I have to poop. Every fucking possible bodily function hits you in that five minutes before they walk in the door. Finally a small dreaded knock and all I want to do is yell, �No body is in here! Go away!�

Do you ever notice when you are in a really uncomfortable situation people feel the need to start talking about the most ridiculous and nonsense things. What�s up with the small talk? Do you really think that it is easing my uncomfortableness? Not helping. I can�t very well keep a conversation going while I see you lubing up some crazy thing that looks like a pastry tool. Not a very intelligent conversation anyway. Even through the dread, I was able to find a little humor in the situation because when you have to scoot your butt all the way to the end of the table, yours knees automatically do this crazy lock thing where they have to be pried open. It�s like the last attempt at deterring the inevitable. Great, here she comes with that tourture device. Deep breaths in, try not to tense up, and ughhhh...Very unpleasant.

After the 5 minutes of torture are finally at an end, there comes even more poking and proding. Externally this time. The boob exam. Now I don�t know about you, but I tend to be a little lumpy due to my excessive coffee addiction( which I just found out). And girls we all know that right around that time of the month they can really start to hurt and don�t want to be fooled around with. This was not enjoyable at all and you would think that my wincing would have been a clue to her to ease up a bit on the girls. Nope, she spent a good 5 minutes on each one. All I have to say is God forbid the first person that tries to talk to me at work when I get back. I feel so violated.

For something that is so fast, I can�t explain how horrible the whole experience leaves you feeling. All I want to do is go home, take a shower, put on some sweats and curl up in bed with the remote and a big piece of cake. Chocolate of course. But, the reality of being a �grown up� hits and you have to clean yourself up, speedily get dressed, and head back to work. This year I wore a shirt to work that said �cranky� so people would clearly get the message to back off. I think that explains my mood pretty damn well after that whole ordeal. So leave me the hell alone!

Welp, it's all over for until next year, which I am sure will be here before I know it. Now we just wait for the all clear phone call. Ahhh, the joys of being a woman...

.:.

.: 10:27 a.m. :.
.: February 14, 2004 :.

.:.

.: yin :: yang :.