Don't Come Near Me With That Thing AKA Speculums And Discomfort

Today is my lady part's least favorite appointment. I have to get my yearly probing. Or what doctors would call a PAP. I'm getting all crampy and uncomfortable just thinking about it.

It's that fun exam where your doctor squeezes your boobs and violates you (thankfully not at the same time... the boobs are the violation foreplay) with a speculum (nightmare puppet) so they can scrape around the insides of your lady garden with what feels like a miniature mase. To make sure you're healthy.

You want to do what with that?

Having to put my feet in the stirrups of lessening dignity is only the begging of discomfort as I stare at the ceiling and pretend that I'm not about to let my doctor crank open my cave of wonders with the equivalent of a human car jack. I wish I could tell my doctor that it would make it less awkward for me if she didn't try to start small talk while she's getting out the lube and spelunking in my baby crevasse.

What do you do for work? I don't know... I can't think right now with you poking me in the ovaries.

I'm thinking we need some medical research into how to make this a little less violatey. The biggest step they've taken so far is to switch from metal to plastic. Metal makes it seem more like a medieval torture device than a modern medical tool.

I hear doctors get all kinds of interested in your Velvet Underground when you're pregnant. It's not like you don't have enough going on in there without having 2 people fighting for space in your fetus factory.

I'm hoping it's quick and only a little bit awkward. It's the most I can hope for.