Girls Only

I've been going back and forth about blogging about this and I have decided to share. Last week I went to the cootie pop doc. By cootie pop, for those who aren't familiar, I mean cooter, cookie, hoo-ha, va-jay-jay, or straight up vag. That kind of doctor. Well, let me be clear I thought I was going to "that" doctor. Here's how it all started....

I went to my doctor to get some medicine for my migraines. Now, my doctor isn't the typical older male who has the typical doctor smell. My doctor is my age, semi good looking (dark hair and blue eyes good looking), with a southern accent. I like to refer to him as Doogie. During this visit Doogie was chatting it up with me. Asking me questions, joking around, the not so common doctor/patient conversation, but still appropriate. At the end of the visit he asked if I was up to date on all my labs and my cootie pop test. I wasn't. So I made an appointment for what they call a "well woman's exam". Clearly I assumed I would be visiting Women's Health on my next visit because of what was about to go down.

I check in at the front desk and they tell me to go wait in the FAMILY health waiting room. Okay, maybe I'll take the back way to Women's Health. My name gets called. I go back with McDreamy and head into the room. As I walk in with HIM I notice that on the table there are long looking q-tips and some plastic tubes. DUN DUN DUN! Instant anxiety. McDreamy asks if I'm here for the cootie pop test (of course he didn't use those exact words) and I reply with a very enthusiastic and sarcastic YES! At this point I. AM. TERRIFIED. Not only am I getting this test done I'm getting it done by Doogie! McDreamy leaves and I am alone with my thoughts. I opt for solitaire to keep my mind off things.

Knock. Knock. DUN DUN DUN! In comes Doogie along with a friend. Turns out Doogie is training someone! Fan. Tas. Tic. The next few minutes are kind of a blur because Skippy, the new "doctor", is asking me questions that don't quite make sense and I'm too focused on the fact that he is even more nervous than I am. Then the cootie pop test comes. Longest test ever! Not only is Skippy asking Doogie every question in the book, but his hands are visibly shaking. Trust me. I know.

At one point during this whole charade I could feel my face changing color and I was on the verge of either laughing or crying. Doogie repeatedly asked if I was okay. I'm pretty sure he could sense my anxiety. Needless to say, I made it and I'm thanking God that it's only a once-a-year thing!