I was very brave today and went to the gynecologist. Most women hate the gynecologist. Some stranger puts their forearm into your vagina and pinches very sensitive skin. It’s awful, but necessary. As for me, I have had abnormal pap smears all of my adult life and one time I even needed a biopsy. I can’t afford to pretend the gyno will just go away. Still, trying to figure out a new insurance plan and then choosing a stranger at random from a pre-approved list of PPO doctors… It’s such a foul system. I mean, anything can happen! One person gets excellent healthcare and the next dies from an undiagnosed malignancy. There’s no justice in it. Helpless to change the system, I went online and chose a gynecologist, and you know what?
He was awesome.
Wow. I mean, just wow! I ended up spilling the beans about everything. I spoke about the herpes. I spoke about the incontinence. I spoke about the anxiety and the migraines, and even the narcotics I use to self-medicate when I have head pain. Lastly, I told the doctor: “You know, I like you; so let’s just save some time. My life is like a funnel. There’s a point at which something happens and then everything spreads out from there. I was raped when I was a child. That’s why I’m infertile, that’s why I have abnormal pap smears, and that’s why I have Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome.”
I must say that the doctor was extremely sympathetic. In fact, he seemed damaged by what I said. He told me that he was sorry I went through that. Isn’t that a sweet thing to say? What a gentleman.
I can’t believe how well the visit went. I was super reluctant to go to a male gynecologist, but he had excellent credentials. I could see that. So I took the gamble (and a Xanax) and went for it. I have to mention that when I first entered the doctor’s office, they were playing the most excellent soundtrack to “The Lord of the Rings”. I thought that was so cool and it relaxed me. You know, I’ve come a long way as I reach my 50’s. I was so courageous to do what I had to do even though it has been a trauma trigger for me in the past; and I told my doctor about the abuse. I didn’t make him guess. I didn’t waste precious time expecting him to arrive at the truth through complicated testing and process of elimination. I shared my medical history with my doctor, like a grown-up would do. I am so proud of myself.
“Recovery: Going to the Gyno.” is copyright © 2016 by Poorkitteh. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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