Commando and seated on the table

There aren't enough hours in the day to begin to describe the exceptionally long list of things that have kept me busy the last two days. Yesterday I received the first of many urgent phone calls from my boss at 8 am on the way to my gynecologist appointment. I think the sky was falling or something equally critical. Never mind the fact that I'm not on the clock yet. Let me bore you with the details of how bad your day is going to suck once you get here.

I fended her off with talk of a pap smear. But first thing in the door later that morning, there was no avoiding her. Because I am She-Ra and I will singlehandedly hold the sky up for her.

It's nice to be needed but let's be honest. I'm just a girl. Is there no back up sky holder upper? Because technically I only got to work when I did after my gynecologist blew me off to deliver three babies. Speaking of which, my doctor is lucky I didn't run into her in the hall on the way to reception to reschedule my appointment. Because I was commando and seated on the table when they announced the rain delay on my pap smear. I think that's a little late in the game to come up with these flimsy excuses about emergency C-sections.

They tried to talk me into a nurse practitioner instead. They clearly haven't met me. I'm difficult about gynecologists. I successfully avoided going to one until I was 25. And even then, it was a family history of medical issues that require an annual pap smear that made me go. Even my dad had started asking me if I had gone for a pap smear yet. Seriously. My dad. I know. It was time to give in to the inevitable.

My gynecologist turned out to be one of my top 2 all time favorite doctors I've ever been to. She reminds me of me. Which I love and my husband finds entertaining when he tags along. My annual visit feels like going to visit an old friend. Which is extra amazing considering I cried at my first visit. It was the stirrups. I had a traumatic stirrup related incident at the doctor when I was 12 and a long memory that never let it go. But it's all good. Because I love my doctor now and her name is the first one I check for on the list of providers when I contemplate switching insurance companies. She's worth waiting for. Although, I still think the lack of underwear should get you squeezed in between C-sections or something.