So I’m pretty sure my gynecologist thinks I’m a whore. I didn’t think it was possible for a doctor to judge one of her patients but that definitely happened to yours truly on a recent visit to the lady doctor. Granted I hadn’t been to the doctor since THE DIVORCE but I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal when I answered “yes” to the standard question, “So are there any new sexual partners I need to be made aware of”.
I had already mentally prepared myself for the question and had my answer ready.
“Yep” I replied. I even smiled with my eyes when I answered. (Thanks Tyra!) I was super nonchalant about it because, really, how big of a deal is this? She looks at people’s vajajays all day. Me saying I’ve banged it out with some guy should be a non issue.
What I didn’t remember is that her little computer contains not only my entire health history but also my marital status (married!), which is fantastic. She looked up at me with such shock and horror you would have thought I ran over her dog this morning while smoking methamphetamine.
“Oh really?” she asked.
“Oh yeah…well you know….I’m getting a divorce….so…..um…..yeah! And then there’s that, too….so right on!”
Here’s where it goes from oh-that’s-just-slightly-awkward to now-I’m-cold-sweating-awkward.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry…..or should I not be sorry? You know what? It’s probably a good thing! So many of my friends have gotten divorced and it really is for the best. Is it for the best? I’m sure it really is for the best!!!!”
“Oh yeah, it’s for the best alright. It’s all good”. At this point the actual exam would be way less uncomfortable than this exchange so maybe I should move things along by ‘scootching by butt down and just relaxing”.
A couple of pokes and prods later and I think I’m free and clear of the awkward until I get the following question:
“So, how did you meet this new guy?”
At a bar around 11 on a work night after three too many cocktails. “Oh at work! Yes, we met at work!”
“Oh how great! So are how are you two doing now?”
“Ha, ha…yeah….see…it wasn’t really like that. We’re not dating. We just…you know…a little of…..so……ok!”
Icing on the Cake Alert! Then she asks me if I think I should go ahead tested for some STDs. “It would probably be a good idea” she says.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s go ahead and order those up. Do what you need to do and I’ll see you in a year!”
I think next year I’ll go to Planned Parenthood. They see a ton of crazy. My little dalliances wouldn’t even be a blip on the their radar. Plus also, I think dealing with completely insane abortion protestors on the way to get my exam would be kind of fun, too.