So I thought going to the gyno was the worst Dr. appt. I would ever have. However I did not factor in that all these heart issues are right under my boob and I would have several men feeling around in there. What use to be my greatest asset is now still looking for it's "best side" and afraid of the light. It's more of a "don't look, I'm shy" sort of boob now. But alas, the doctors do not care.
So I went to the second cardiologist the other day with my husband. (*Side note, I'm not going to die any time soon from heart issues. That's all I needed to hear!) But at the time I'm all freaked out and waiting for my name to be called. This lovely lady comes to get me & tells me she's going to do my blood pressure and weight. Fabulous. I can handle you doing it. But then she disappears behind this curtain and this 24 year old cutie comes up.
"OK Ma'am we're going to get your weight."
WTF? Uh, no! You are not going to get my weigh. Thank you very much.
So... after he got my weight, we sit in the little room for him to look over my medication. First words out of his mouth: "What's this, Nuvaring? What's that."
Seriously dude!As my husband sat over there giggling I contemplated explaining the whole "Well, son, it's a glow ring that you shove up your .... so you don't have any more little shits running around." Instead, I politely stated, "it's birth control."
To his response:"Oh, (blush) how often do you take it."
Again, I weighed whether or not to flip through his medical books on the desk and find the part of the body I "take" it in. But I decided to go with a standard, "once a month" and leave it at that.
Thankfully that whole exchange was over, until he very quickly said, "We-need-to-get-an-EKG-on-you.I-understand-if-you-want-a-woman.I'll-be-right-back-with-the-equipment." All one word, like there really was no choice of a woman... Well, OK sonny, I guess you get the honor of playing with my boob today. And... my hubby gets the honor of watching.
I have never seen my husband concentrate on his blackberry so hard in all my life. This cute little guy was all up in my business. I mean, moving things around, trying his hardest to keep it all covered up, and doing a piss poor job of it. It would have been cool if he was even slightly "clinical" about it. But he's chatting about smelly feet and smiling his cute little boy toy smile.
And then for the love of all things holy, I thought he was done putting probes all over me and making small talk because he's all uncomfortable and my husband's eyeballs are glued to his phone so he doesn't have to witness the hottie messing with his wife's parts... he says he didn't put them in the right places and he has to move all FIVE of them surrounding my area. I swear I heard a collective sigh out of all of us wishing for this awkward moment to be over. So he readjusts my parts and takes his little test. And with one final humiliation of him pulling off each one of those probes, I whisper "Ouch" as my chest ripples like a tidal wave with every suction cup that is yanked off my skin. It's finally over. Yeah, a pap would have been easier for everyone involved.
Earning My Punishments
17 hours ago