Girl stuff

Ok boys, I'm gonna talk about girl problems, so if you can't handle it, look away now. If you keep reading, don't say I didn't warn you.

I went yesterday afternoon to the local womens' health centre to have a smear test done. I (as much as I preach to everyone else) haven't had one in a while and knew it was time to go when I started getting strange symptoms last month. It's one of those things; you know you have to go, in case you don't go and then you find out you've got problems, but if you go, they could tell you that you have problems. Fear makes it easy to sit on the fence and justify whichever choice you make, especially when the last few times you've been and had problems, they tell you it won't happen again.

I took a book to read, because these places always make you wait. This time I got in only a few minutes after my appointment was scheduled, so I was thankful, although I can't say I was pleased to be there, or doing cartwheels in anticipation of what I was about to have done.

The nurse was late 40s and very softly spoken. She was almost girly and that annoyed me. Hey, maybe that's what set off my bad mood in the first place? At the outset, she asked if I minded if another nurse came in while I had the procedure. Hey, what the hell, invite everyone to check out my bits. "Um...sure."

Anyway, she sat me down and started asking me questions. Most were pretty straightforward, asking about my general health, diet, exercise. I got the feeling she thought I was pretty young from the way in which she asked. Previous medical problems. Explained. On any medications? Explained. Family history? Explained. Kids? Lord, no! Who do you live with? My partner. Have you been together long? Um...no. (Why did I feel guilty about that?) Is he your first partner?

At this point, the feeling was reinforced that she thought I wasn't much older than 12. No, he's not my first partner and I'm not his. Do you think you should be tested for STDs? Is it part of the same test? We can do it at the same time. Yeah, why not, I'm mean shit, while you're prying me open, may as well take advantage of the situation. "I'm not concerned, but yeah, you can do that."

Now I'm thinking, great, not only do I have some problem with my bits that's giving me all this grief, I've got a billion STDs and lucky I don't want kids, because C and I would obviously produce mutated freaks and I'm never having sex again. Well, the never having sex again thing lasted about a millisecond.

Eventually, down to business. She told me to take off all my lower body clothes (left work early to shower and change underwear because you do not want to go into those places with people scrutinising your bits and have your bits looking all haggard!), lie on the table and put the sheet over me. Ok sure.

There's a spotlight at the end of the bed. I don't remember having a spotlight shon into my girl bits last time I had this done! I lie down, they come back in. At this point, nurse #2 takes over and I realise that she's a practice nurse. Oh joy! Lift your butt so we can put this pillow underneath. Mmmm, I'm glad the windows have blinds, because anybody driving past about now is gonna have a major crash.

"I've warmed it up so it's not too cold on your skin. It's not too hot is it?", she says, pressing it against my inner thigh. I'm thinking, you people have a spotlight on my bits, I don't care whether your torture instruments are hot or cold. "Nah, it's ok." Nurse #1 is rubbing my leg and telling me to relax. She really does think I'm 12!

I didn't see the alien torture device, but I sure felt it. I watched the clock. I remembered this didn't take very long last time. She's taking a while about it. She turns her back and starts to get something ready and it appears she's having trouble. Nurse #1 goes to show her how to put it back together. Hello! People! I'm here with this metal thing sticking out of me and a spotlight on my insides. Kinda uncomfy here!

"Oh look", says Nurse #1, and points out something, "You'll have to get that out of the way, before you can do the test, but be sure not to touch the cervix if you can". Ever seen that board game where you pretend to be a doctor and you have to put kidneys back inside people without touching the sides? I had visions of that. I wondered what would happen if she touched the sides.

Nurse #2's arm keeps blocking the light, so Nurse #1 tells her to stop and shows her how, if she put her arm under my thigh, instead of over it, it wouldn't block the light. Genius, huh? Then they tell me they don't just do one test in that establishment, they do two. Oh yippy! I get to stay like this longer!

Seven minutes! Seven minutes is how long they had me pried open. They say it hurts less the more relaxed you are, but it's a fine art to relax your bits when the rest of you is screaming, "hurry up already!". I managed. They kept saying they were sorry and how well I was doing, like I was having an amputation, or something.

Nurse #2 handed me some tissues. You can use these if you need to clean up a bit. You don't have to, but you can if you want. Nah lady, I really wanna walk outta here feeling like my bits are all hanging out and looking like I've been riding a horse. I cleaned up. It's funny. The whole procedure is not all that painful, but it's certainly uncomfortable and leaves you feeling slightly off once it's done, albeit glad that it's over.

She asked if they could call me with the results. Sure. If there are no problems, we'll just send you a letter, is that ok? Yep, so really what you're saying is I don't want you to call me? Oh no, if we call you, it doesn't necessarily mean it's bad, but we might just need to talk to you. How is that good? Oh no, I can just call and say the results are fine, if you like.

Letter in mail, good. Phone call, bad. Why are they concentrating on the phone call? Meanwhile, I won't get any results for up to three weeks. Oh, except to find out if I'm riddled with STDs. They'll tell me next Tuesday. Oh joy! I can hardly wait!