Ahhh, the pap smear - or "shmear," as I sometimes call it... lovely day for women everywhere. FYI male followers, there is a lot of prep work on shmear day. You have to get completely "nekked" and no, it's not sexy - not one little bit. The only covering you have is a thin jumbo over sized napkin to cover your hoo-ha area and a jumbo over sized napkin with a hole for your head so they can freely examine the upper parts of your bod. Though covered, you're essentially completely exposed. It's not freeing. You feel like Eve after she ate that fateful apple... cover me!
Therefore, everything must be shaved, groomed, plucked, deodorized, and sanitized. Not only that, but your feet are in the stirrups, so your heels are right in her face and your legs are totally exposed while she's "down there" and the attending nurse gets the full meal deal as well. It is necessary to lotion the dry heels and paint your toenails and no stinky feet, puh-lease!
If you don't know what this is, don't ask!
|Thank God they either heat them up or use plastic nowadays...|
The doctor checks the whole drive train, a real 40 point inspection with free lubrication services and everything. Then she checks under the hood. Nothing inside the engine compartment is off limits. It's quite invasive, intrusive, and 'inspect'-ive and thank you Jesus it's only once a year. And yes, she even goes there. I think I literally sucked in an audible, "WHOA!" when she went there. So not only are you being intruded upon in the most intimate of ways, all in the name of good health, you also have all your junk all up in their faces.
For good measure, they also shine a spotlight on Henrietta Hoo-Ha just to make sure they don't miss anything. No stone is left unturned. I swear, every year, she pokes at a place on Henrietta and goes, "Nope, that's just a freckle." Yes it is. Every year, doctor.
So I'm 43 and old hat with this process, but this time, I had something happen I'd never experienced before. She chit-chats to lighten the mood and we had been discussing our kids and the fact that I adopted mine. She is considering it as well and starts telling me about her foster child and I assume it's a youngster. After all of the pokes (eeeey-aaaaiiiii) and prods and she is almost finished, her cell phone rings.
It's the kid. She answers it. You heard me right. She answers a call from her kid on her cell phone while she's down in Cindy Brown's wonderland. I am still in the stirrups with my knees in the air and she is chatting with the kid about horse riding lessons right between my very thighs.
"Don't worry, the riding lessons are after supper and someone will get you there. Yes. It's tonight. We have plenty of time."
I assume she's talking to a small child, maybe five to seven years old. She keeps talking. I keep laying there, exposed. I'm waiting patiently. The nurse is waiting patiently. I'm already formulating the blog post.
Suddenly irritated and rolling her eyes, she shouts loudly to the child, "Well, I'm in the middle of a pap smear! (pause) I'll talk to you later about it. Okay. Bye."
She turns to me and says, "That was my 14 year old boy."
Oh - my - God. Think Everyday Underwear style for just one tiny moment here.
What if she had accidentally hit the video chat button on her cell phone while she was in front of my hoo-ha? What if? Or the camera button? Well, I must tell you that even I was a little mortified at the incident. But lucky for me, a humor blogger, it gave me a story to tell and so instead, I chuckled and brushed it off, like I do a lot of things.
"Wow," I thought. Just wow.
So I am curious... do any of you have a shmear story you'd like to share? Top mine. I dare ya.