I recently sat in a Planned Parenthood lobby for approximately two hours while waiting to be seen by a doctor for a routine visit.  Planned Parenthood is what happens to good people like me that want to run their own business, have their freedom, and prove to the world they are a huge success—and consequently, have no health insurance.  But, money’s not the whole story.  I could pay a little more and go somewhere else.  And still, something inexplicable compels me to keep going back to the low-rent-seen-it-all-before-and-that’s-some-fucked-up-shit clinic.  I guess I feel like they know their stuff.

They finally called me back to the exam room and oh, Jesus.  My doctor was a dude. It should be noted that I have never had a man down there before in that capacity, so I was a little thrown and lot uncomfortable by the prospect.  But, I’d waited two hours and wasn’t about to reschedule.

Historically, I am not a fan of small talk and generally have very little use or tolerance for it.  But on that day, with nothing but a thin paper gown between my naked body and this strange dude in a white coat, I changed my tune.  I made observations about the weather (Wow, it’s so humid today!), sports (How ‘bout them Yankees?), and the stock market (Quite a bear, ain’t it?).  I was relieved that he engaged in the meaningless chatter to pass the time.

Upon completing his work he handed me a sheet of post-procedure care instructions.  I skimmed the list and cringed at the last bullet point, which stated, “Do not insert anything into your vagina for a week.”  Vagina.

I hate the word vagina.  I hate reading it.  I hate writing it.  I hate thinking about it.  And, I especially hate hearing it.  But, being a thorough medical provider (or an asshole that enjoyed watching me squirm) my doctor felt it necessary to give me a verbal reminder of the last instruction in case it wasn’t clear when I read it the first time.  The conversation went something like this:

Dude Doctor:  “And remember, no putting anything in your VAGINA for a week.”

Me (visibly cringing):  “Yep.  I got it.”

Dude Doctor:  “That means no tampons in your VAGINA for a week.”

Me (visibly cringing and squirming):  “Yep.  Tampons would be something.  So, I got it.  Nothing.”

Dude Doctor:  “And, no diaphragms in your VAGINA either.”

Me (visibly cringing, squirming, and twitching):  “Yes.  Diaphragms would also be something.  So, again, I got it.  Nothing.”

A-hole Dude Doctor:  “And, no penises or sex toys in your VAGINA either.”

Crickets:  “Chirp, chirp.  Chirp, chirp.”

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