Men Never Go Through These Things

There's a reason why it's been 5 years since my last OB/GYN appointment. Procrastination. Plus, it's something that's easy to procrastinate about.

First off, the entire office staff changed in the past 5 years except for Dr. Hawaii (who is super cute but has a very strong opinion that having boys is so much better than having girls because in today's world you don't have to worry about boys in their teen years. Um, yeh, okay then.) and the receptionist named Breezy. Other than those, all new. Weird.

And now they ask that you fill out a 23-screen questionnaire online before going in to the office. This takes no less than one hour and several phone calls to ask your mother at what age grandpa was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and if that's what he really died from or was it a bleeding ulcer? They also seem to be super concerned whether or not you're on recreational drugs and if you think you need help. I'm guessing that not many people will be honest with questions like that. And when did the gynie doc become a therapist?

They take your picture with a web cam while you're standing at the receptionist's window. It's for their files. Or maybe for a police report if you checked yes to the recreational drugs question. This is an awkward position to find yourself in because you've just come in from thirty degree weather (seriously - there was SNOW on the cars outside) and you weren't wearing a coat because you're stupid that way and you're frigid with red blotches on your face and your hair is windblown and you have no idea if fixing it would help or not, and would that just make you look vain? So you stand there pretending that you're not getting your picture taken by a handheld webcam from across the desk, knowing that the angle from a sitting level to a standing level will not be flattering no matter what you do but you make a feeble attempt to stretch your neck out anyway to camouflage the second chin. And then you realize that you're totally posing and feel like an idiot. I'm so glad that I didn't see the picture and probably never will. I have strong suspicions that the staff just keeps these on file to laugh at during slow times.

Yeh, that was traumatic for me. I was also distracted by the school closings flashing on the television due to the impending snow storm and wondering what the heck I'd do if Micah was released early. His school wasn't listed, so I was safe from that worry.

When I finally got to the point where it was just me and the paper blanket, I realized that I had chocolate on the butt of my jeans. Micah was eating chocolate chip cookies the night before and must have chosen to wipe his hands off. How I didn't notice that when I put them on again this morning is beyond me. And thank goodness I chose to wear the huge, baggy sweatshirt instead of the shorter one. I walked around the rest of the day with that thing pulled down as far as it would go. I'm not sure if that was a better look than chocolate bottom or not, but it's the one that I chose.

I stopped in to have lunch with Sam because he was just across the street, but he was terribly busy with sick and injured patients, so after chatting for a few minutes I left my lunch for him and left. He did, however, ask how the appointment went. Let me just state for the record that when we were dating and I had my very first gynie visit, I came home about three levels of traumatized and wrote him a letter (it was 18 years ago, people) saying that when, in the future, I go for a gynie visit, he should be so considerate as to have dinner made for me and the house picked up because it's that bad. That's never happened, by the way. And now he asks how the appointment goes as if I was at the candy store instead of having my whereabouts violated.

I can't believe that I left him my lunch. I'm such a schmuck.

The good news is that the scales at the doctor's office weighed me 5 pounds less than mine at home, and that was fully clothed with shoes on. That means theirs measured me roughly 8-9 pounds less. That right there is enough to make me forget everything else. But not enough to be super excited about going next year.

11 comments:

Molly said...

Those survey thingies totally throw me off! Because then I'm like "Did I have any overnight hospital stays? No. I didn't. But what if I did and I forgot! Can you forget that? Seriously Molly have you had any surgeries? No. Not that I can recall" and then I'm convinced I forgot something. which is never the case. I'm weird.

But I love my Gyno. I don't want to call her my OB/Gyn because then I'm jinxing myself. You know what's fun (Becky if you are reading this comment stop NOW) telling your dad "I want a baby!" and watching his eyes bug out of his head. Now when I say it he just growls at me. hehe

Nap Warden said...

OK...LOVING the scales at your doctor's office. You have reminded me that I need to make an appointment:(

Great pic, btw!

Michelle said...

Oh I'm with you on the surveys. And they never leave you with enough room to write down all the close relatives who have the conditions they're asking about.

But hey -- at least their scale worked.

The Sports Mama said...

So I'm going to go out on a limb here and tell you that Dr. Hawaii?? Might need to consider some volunteer time at the local high school.

Because teenage boys? Are definitely something to worry about. Having one myself, and being host to an entire football team of others... I really ought to know something, right? :)

And I totally giggled when you used the words "having my whereabouts violated". :)

designHER Momma said...

right now I'm getting weighed and violated every week. It's quite a highlight in my schedule.

Trisha said...

At least you got through it an the doctor didn't say anything about the chocolate! At least it was on your jeans and not melted onto your thigh or anything like that!

imbeingheldhostage said...

I.don't.wanna.go. and I guess now I will have to because you set the example-- no, wait, Kyleigh's only three, so technically I have two more years to go!

Yeah, and why is it husbands say, "So, hey-- how'd you're appointment go?" in that light and airy way? Do we ever ask, "Did he squeeze when you turned your head and coughed?" in the same tone as asking if they want milk or lemonade?

Andrea said...

I was always told that raising boys was a more important job than raising girls, because, you have to teach the boys how to treat the girls!! Or something like that....

My OB appointments are nearly that bad!! LOL there are no strange cameras and I really love that it's the same staff since I have been going, the last 6 years. But you crack me up!! I got a good laugh this afternoon!! I hope you don't have to go back for the next 5 years!! :)

Karen said...

I want to go to a doctor named Hawaii and a receptionist named Breezy. That would make it all worth it! LOL

Karen said...

Karen - his name isn't really Hawaii, but he is Hawaiian. That's where the cute comes in. Unfortunately, pretty is as pretty does.

Fishsticks and Fireflies said...

Every time I go to the GYN Frank asks me how it was. And every time I scream at him, "HOW DO YOU THINK IT WAS?! WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD SOMEONE SITTING BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS STICKING COLD METAL OBJECTS WHERE THE SUN DOES NOT SHINE?" You would think he would learn.

I actually wouldn't mind if my picture was attached to my medical record - it might be nice to have the doctor kind-of remember me from my previous visit instead of having to backtrack through my record to find out exactly why I am glaring at him (that would be the one that asked how old my other 3 kids were when I was pregnant with Briar - IDIOT.)