Tuesday, December 1, 2009




Recently I've been having some...well, what was best described by my noble foremothers as..."female" problems. It's been a bit of a zoo here I'll tell ya. Pressure has been mounting. And I'm gonna get some of it off my chest right now. So if words like uterus, fallopian tubes or even stirrups distress you...move on now. You've been warned.

Let me begin by saying that I'm not crazy about my doctor. He's a nice enough man I guess, but I find our whole relationship awkward at best. This might be true of my relationship with any doctor of this type but I don't think so. This awkwardness can best be illustrated by the following story.

I once missed my yearly appointment with the good doctor by a few months. I eventually went in and after the ritual weigh in, blood pressure check, etc. was given my obligatory uniform and told to wait on the table. Moments later, in walks the doctor who sits down, asks the usual questions and then walks over to the table, looks down on me, and asks, "So, are you still married to that same guy?"

Now, FYI, future doctors...

Don't say things like this to a woman lying with her feet in stirrups clothed only in a glorified bib and a large paper towel. It's weird. (Trust me, I checked around just to make sure it wasn't me.)

I switched doctors the next time I had to go for the yearly thing. I called around and found a guy I'd been hearing about for years. I went in and during the course of my twentysomeodd minute appointment he made eye contact with me...zero...yes, ZERO...times.

Now, just another little piece of advice...if you are gonna get as up close and personal as an OB/GYN does with his patients...you had BETTER make eye contact at some point. Just sayin'.

Another year rolled around and I began the search again. Guess what I learned? All those doctors who went to med school for all those years, who I'd assumed really chose their profession out of a sincere desire to help and care for their patients, who I believed
had SOME interest in womens' health, who, after all, did take the Hippocratic oath...yeah, them.

Turns out? Only interested in making money.

Call me naive but I had thought they were interested in all their patients not just the ones with uteruses (uteri?) still planning on having babies. Could I find a doctor interested in me as a new patient? Nope.

Which is how I ended up back in the office Dr. StrangeBedsideManner. Just to be sure he didn't have to wonder about my marital status I took Guapo along this time. He really loves these kinds of field trips.

And there I have remained for the last several years, with a doctor I'm unsure of, participating in yearly, humiliating exams.

Until a few weeks ago when all manner of things began to go awry. I won't bore you with details but suffice it to say it ended in some outpatient, minor surgery and a great deal of angst.

And after all that? Well , they know some things it's not...

Today I went in and found out some of my options. There are several, among them a treatment whereby they run "scalding liquid" through my uterus and another where they just remove my uterus entirely. He gave me these options before (yes, before) he actually told me what was wrong. Which he doesn't actually know.

I love being a girl.


Teachinfourth said...

Well, after your warning I decided to forbear reading the rest of the text...just know that I was here and I hope that all is well (since I didn't read any further than that).

Happy Hols.

~j. said...

I love you.