Tanya O'Debra

...a haven for tender artistic feelings... ...a refuge for tears to be shead... ...poetry... ...suicide...

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

...i'm not horny...

Please, Dr Gynecologist, Please Don’t Think I’m Horny

“You know how they use lube to loosen things up down there? Well, I'm always afraid that my doctor thinks I'm getting horny."

Diane O'Debra pretty much summed up exactly how I was feeling today during my pap smear. Or as I like to call it, my pussy scrape.

Literally, I am sitting on the table, with my butt scootched up as far is it will go, and my little footsies in the stirrups thinking, “Dear God, I hope my doctor doesn’t think I’m horny because she’s about to stick something in my pussy”.

The minute you even think for one second about being horny, you have made a huge mistake. It goes a little something like this.

“Gee, I sure hope my doctor doesn’t think I’m horny. Oh, my God. Am I horny?”

You see what happened there? I’m going to play that back for you.

“Well, my legs are spread eagle, my vagina is flapping in the wind just waiting to be penetrated and forced wide open. I just hope to God my doctor doesn’t think I’m horny! (Echo) Horny, horny, horny… Oh, crap.

Isn’t it fun trying to convince yourself that you’re not horny? And it totally works, too, right? No, it doesn’t. Awesome.

And the biggest problem is the fact that you can’t really see what’s going on down there. Your knees are up and there’s a paper thingy on your lap. When I say I don’t know what’s going on, I mean, specifically, did she use lube? I know she’s supposed to use lube, and the answer is probably yes. But what if she took one look at my vagina and said, “Hmm, that pussy is slippery enough”, and just knocked that speculum right in there with absolutely no problem? What could be more embarrassing? I might as well fart in her right face. I didn’t fart in her face.

Then I wonder if my doctor knows I think she thinks I’m horny. Or what if she thinks I think she’s getting horny. Just something to think about.

But as soon as she starts scraping at my cervix like it’s a scratch ticket, I know for certain am certain that I am not horny. Your honor, not horny.

And what about this, Dr Vagina-Looker? Why so chatty while you’re shoving things in my pussy? A few minutes ago, you checked my heart, lungs, ears, eyes and nothing. Not a word. Then as soon as my stuff’s all out, suddenly you’ve been blessed with the gift of gab, like you just kissed the Blarney Stone right now.

Ladies, how do we feel about having sex before a pap smear? Bad, right? You can thank me for proving you absolutely correct. Please don’t do it!

The night before my appointment, I settled in for an evening of romance, forgetting that someone would be staring long and hard at my vagina the next day. So not only do I have to pray that doctor doesn’t think I’m horny, I now have to beg Jesus to keep her from noticing any evidence that I did it last night.

“Your vagina looks irritated. Any problems?”

“No.”

“Have you been scratching it or something?”

That is exactly the kind of sentence that I never wanted to hear in my whole life. My friend Ann went to the giner doctor and she told Ann that her discharge is gorgeous. I go, and it’s, “Have you been scratching it?”

“Are you sure it hasn’t been bothering you?”

“Yup.”

“”Huh. Well, you can always get some cream if it acts up.”

Cream!!!

“Okay.”

And then she started finger banging me. It’s part of the internal exam. You doctor is required to finger bang you really hard to “check” things. Apparently mashing your ovaries so hard that you double over in pain is the only way to be sure that those suckers are a-okay. Whatever. Definitely not horny during that. It hurts. And she had to tell me to relax.

After it’s all over, your doctor will leave you to wipe the goo off your puss. Mine gave me a few options as to how I could accomplish that. Paper towels, tissue, cotton. Maybe she thought my vagina was extra dirty or something. “Have you been scratching it” echoed through my mind. Gross, gross, gross. I am filled with shame. And excess lube.