How do you demand more from a full physical when your doctor has already thrown the speculum into the sterilization bin and marched out of the room? I am asking, because as I sat there on the table wearing nothing but a paper sheet, my options were limited. I couldn't exactly go chasing her down the hall with the sheet fluttering around me toga-style and yelling Wait up! You didn't even finger me yet! You know, with the rubber gloves! And the lube!
Well, technically I could have, but I just met this doctor, and I didn't want to appear needy so soon in our relationship. Cityville is a city short on doctors, so to find one that you don't hate is like a rare and beautiful orchid that must be cultivated with careful control of humidity levels and night temperatures. Pissing one off by acting as though you know anything about your own tonsils could mean that any future throat swabs might have to be cajoled out of your medical professional through flattery and feigned ignorance.
Back to me wrapped in a paper sheet and sitting on the table in my new doctor's office on Tuesday morning... I was a little confused. It had been six years since I had had a whole physical done, but I have hazy memories of jelly-covered, gloved fingers being shoved up inside my vagina while the doctor asked me if I was still in school or if I had gone to the lake over the summer holiday. On Tuesday, my doctor pressed on my belly a few times, shoved an uncomfortably hot speculum inside of me, swirled a long-sticked cotton swab around my cervix, and that was it. She didn't sit on a chair between my thighs to do any close visual inspection. She didn't whip out a pen light to check my cervical colour or whatever it is they hope to see up there. I don't think she even got close enough to notice that bizarre mole on the one side that every doctor assures me is a fine and healthy mole.
I have never been a fan of the close inspection. I actually found this latest physical to be the most enjoyable I've had thus far because of its brevity, but shouldn't more be done? What if I'm turning weird colours or growing cysts or something? Being speculumless, it is a touch difficult for me to check these things out, so if my doctor doesn't do it, what then? Will my vagina slowly grow its weird colours and cysts unbeknownst to me until it is a twisted monster of its former, healthy self, too far gone to reform its unwieldy ways?
WWVD: What Would a Vagina Do?
Mine, if it could act alone, would haul its sticky little self over to another doctor who would treat it like it was a rare and beautiful orchid that must be cultivated with careful control of humidity levels and night temperatures. Alas, it cannot act alone, and it is stuck in a body that also houses my throat and ears and various glands, all of which are swollen and some of which sport white spots. Me and my uterus are staying put with this doctor for a little while, because she deigned to ask for lab results from a throat swab, and until the matter upstairs is cured, whatever may or may not be the matter downstairs will have to wait.
Curses on this town's lack of doctors who would spend more than three minutes in a room with me! Do I go in search of the elusive Doctor Who Takes New Patients who might actually cast her or his eyes on my nethers? WWVD?