Dropping F bombs to your Gynecologist

When you have a long track record of horrible experiences at the doctor’s office, it’s an accomplishment to feel like you’ve really outdone yourself. When I was younger, my biggest fear was syringes. Well, that and Russian attack, but let’s stay focused. While we didn’t frequent the doctor all that often, it seemed to me that every visit involved me sobbing at the suggestion of an injection. My fear was beyond controllable. I knew that the needle puncturing my skin would be the worst pain any human had ever felt. And my solution was to fight like hell to get out of the exam room. My dad enjoys recalling memories of 2 or 3 nurses being called in to help hold me down because I would launch into such hysterics.On Thursday, I was like James Dean in my white tank top, my arm hanging limply so the doctor’s assistant could administer a Tetanus shot. Cool and calm. Maybe even a little bored with the procedure. The woman even winced a little when the syringe punctured my left arm, but I sat there unfazed. I can only attribute my composure to the episode that preceded the Tetanus.

When you drop an F bomb to your physician, it should be for a good reason. Like say, the feeling of having your uterus stabbed. My nonexistent threshold for pain hit a new low yesterday when the speculum went one click too far.

“That f—king hurts!”

It just flew out of my mouth, involuntarily, and hit my doctor square in the face. I had been trying really hard to stay casual by asking her about Folic acid in prenatal vitamins while ignoring my vagina walls being spread apart. But I think this backfired because the pain caught me more off-guard than normal. Hence, the involuntary cursing. Like getting a paper cut. Or swinging a hammer against your thumbnail. I’ve known my physician for quite awhile. She’s pretty young and probably hip to dropping F bombs herself, but this didn’t stop me from immediately feeling shameful and apologizing probably more than was necessary.

She wrapped up the exam pretty quickly after this. But I obviously haven’t seen the last of my nemesis: the speculum. These exams are only going to become more frequent once we conceive. So what’s a girl to do with a pint-sized vagina tunnel and gynecological anxiety? My friend Suzanne, who has three gorgeous kids of her own, put it this way: “the good thing about giving birth is that its less about you and u get a tiny prize at the end.” I’m not confident I’ll be able to subscribe 100% to that when I’m in all that pain, but I like the idea of a getting that tiny prize.

8 comments

  1. Yay! I made the blog. Now, if I can just get you to name your first born after me I’ll feel like a success.

  2. R. Shivar · · Reply

    Thats my favorite part of that movie!! those kids are hilarious and disturbing..like i hope your children will be.

  3. Clearly we’ll be teaching them how to google “murder.”

  4. tiffany · · Reply

    in labor, a nurse said something to the effect of how she “knew that my back was hurting, but it would be over soon” (right!). well, before i knew what i was saying, this came out, “it’s not my back, my FUCKING hips are ripping apart!!!!!”. that was the only bad cursing, i just didn’t like her!

    1. Meredith and I were having a debate. This feeling of having your hips ripped apart … epidural or no? Did I mention that after telling the doctor’s assistant about what had happened she looked at me and said, “Why are you the one carrying the baby??” Good question. Good question.

  5. Meredith · · Reply

    suzanne, I have a lisp so the letter S can’t be in any of our kids or dogs names. Maybe we will call her Uzanne.

  6. I’m 26 weeks now & haven’t taken my pants off at a check up!!! Most of the poking & prodding is at the end. so don’t worry about having to have meredith put her hand over your mouth for 9 straight months of ob appointments!! you will receive your super hero mommy powers as soon as you pee on a stick & will be able to do what’s necessary wherever your babies are concerned!!!!!!

  7. wait i lie, there was the first appointment to confirm the pregnancy which required pants down but when you have a baby as often as i seem to you do don’t recall all the strangers that have been between your legs!

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