Cooter check up

There is a part of my body which hides itself from me. I like to ignore it as far as possible, since the last time I paid any attention to it, I:

a) became aware of precancerous cells, and
b) shortly after, discovered I was pregnant

I am talking of my cooter, folks. Well, my cervix and uterous to be specific, but they check that through means of your cooter. Er, mine, not yours, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, I have been avoiding a check up for over three years. Now if you are a girl, you would know that is practically an insane thing to do, for the following reasons, left here on my very own blog, especially for the boys:

1. Every girl should get her boobies checked for lumps
2. Every sexually active woman needs a test (pap smear) in case you pick up bugs or sicknesses that are unspeakable
3. If you have had a baba, you seriously need to be checked all the time

I have been avoiding the cooter check for all of the above reasons. I have had all three things – therefore I am more at risk.

But also!

I am a fucking mental patient look alike when I go near a doctors room. Let me set, for you, the setting of my last doctors check up:

Scene:

Sheena enters doctors reception, ten minutes late, apologising profusely, just as she knocks over a vase of flowers. All over the magazines in the waiting room.

The receptionist, frustrated and anxious while watching me try to clean up – but messing up the carpet as the water drips all over it in, grabs the cloth from me and ushers me into the doctors room, clicking her tongue at me as she walks back to the disaster area.

Conversation with Doctor goes as follows:

Doc: hello Mrs Gates

Me: Um, hello, its MISS Gates

Doc: oh, right. MISS Gates then, when are you to be wed?

Me: Well, Doc, if I knew the answer to that I would be most joyous

Doc: So you have no plans to marry the father of your child as yet?

Me: No. I am a single mother.

Doc: A no name brand, your child? hmmmm

Me: **glares at the stupid asshole Doc**

Doc: Please provide a urine sample, and change into a gown. **hands over little plastic cup**

Me: Oki doki. **heads to the toilet**

Inside the toilet, I look around for a gown. Tear off my clothes in a hurry, I’ve already kept him waiting by being ten minutes late, you see. I stare into the mirror and think, Gawd – is this IT? My ass is bare!

I sit down onto the toilet, willing my bladder to release. Thinking of all sorts of watery things, like running taps, waterfalls, springs, floods, tsunami’s… you know… anything to make it happen.

PAUSE! DO YOU KNOW HOW EFFING HARD IT IS TO PEE INTO A TINY CUP? OH.MY.GOD!

Resuming the pee willingnisation, I finally feel a release, and proudly fill up the urine sample bottle. Huge Success!

I place the cup neatly on the floor so I can swing around and find toilet paper. As I swing, I realise one milisecond too late its a bad idea, and I knock over the tiny bottle.

Shit! Pee everywhere!

I grab toilet paper, use up the entire roll, patting it neatly so as to absorb all excess liquid, now soaked into the pretty floral floor mat.

resume the seat onto toilet, think of all sorts of watery things, like running taps, waterfalls, springs, floods, tsunami’s…

You guessed it, nothing.

Me: We’re going to have to skip the urine sample, I’ve had technical difficulties.
Doc: As you wish, Mrs Gates.

(fucking asshole)

Doc: When last did you have sexual intercourse?

Me: Um, about two months ago I think

Doc: Was this with the childs father?

Me: No, actually.

Doc: And how does that make you feel?

Me: Well, how should it make me feel?

Doc: Is this why you are a single mother? You don’t enjoy male company?

Me: Can you please look up my legs now so I can go home?

….

Now, you tell me, would you hurry back?

3 comments

  1. Dom says:

    It’s always so damn awkward!

    I couldn’t pee in the cup either, even though I imagined every watery thing ever created. Obviously as soon as I left the doc office I had a desperate need to pee. Obviously.

    Find a better doc, maybe it won’t be so bad next time 🙂

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