Today started out like any other day. Rushing around frantically trying to get the boys ready for school (we are always late) while my husband and I attempt to get dressed for our day. I quickly squeezed in a shower since I was headed to my first meeting at the Bladder Care Clinic after school drop-off.
I have had some minor urinary “issues” after insisting on having a VBAC with my second son. Be careful what you wish for (or insist on!). My VBAC was intense to say the least. After hours of hard labor, I was cut from A to V with what Andy refers to as “gardening shears”! Even after that horrific ordeal, my doctor still had to use what looked like salad tongs and a vacuum to get my 8 lb. 14 oz. son out. All this violence resulted in my once quaint “chapel” transformed into a roomy “cathedral”. The afore-mentioned bladder issues are cathedral-related. Anyone else a “Tena” Club member?
Upon arrival at the Bladder Care Clinic, I filled out some embarassing paperwork regarding this sensitive topic. I was led into a bright and modern examination room where I then met my tall (!), dark (!) and inappropriately handsome (!) doctor! Yikes! I hadn’t expected a male doctor, let alone one with crystal-blue eyes, dark hair and a dapper outfit! He introduced himself as a “Uro-Gynecologist”. I asked him if he had studied at a Rave in Berlin? He got my stupid joke and replied in a German accent that “Yes, he had” and added that “I only see Euro-pean patients”. He was hunky, smart, witty and now funny too. No wedding band AND he smelled really good. What the fuck?!?
We chatted about my bladder issue and he was a good listener, courteous and non-judgemental. I glanced over at the examination table covered in crisp, white paper. The reality of this situation became apparent: this fine-ass doctor was gonna examine me! My brain went into overdrive- rapidly scanning my current physical hygiene and personal grooming. Had I showered? Check. Make Up applied? FUCK! Status of my bikini wax? FAIL! Legs Shaved? HOLY HILLBILLY! Last pedicure? I AM RUINED!
The doctor asked me to undress from the waist down and cover myself with the white cloth folded at the foot of the table. He left the room and I tried my best to pull my shin-high wool socks up to my knees. No Dice. I would have to unveil the horror of my unshaved lower legs. There was nothing I could do. Grin and bare it. Within minutes of his re-entering the room, his gloved fingers were inside of my vagina and he was asking me to “bear-down”. He wanted to test the kung-fu action grip of my vagina. SERIOUSLY?!? Is this really happening? I was in shock and blurted out whatever came to mind: “So, is everything in the right place down there? I was afraid to look after the VBAC.” I had pictured an old tire or a worn leather boot falling out of me.” Oh yes”, he replied, everything is in perfect condition, all in the right place.”
Logically, I knew this was an innocent, purely medical comment. He was a professional, and I was his patient. But he was SO freakishly handsome, so funny and had such amazing style (i.e handmade leather shoes haphazardly tied near the toe and clear, interesting frames on his glasses), my emotional, 44 year-old, perimenopausal, housewife side took it as a personal compliment. I am sure I blushed, despite my desire to appear unphased. He had complimented my vagina.
So ladies, your Mothers were right. Always wear a pair of clean underwear just in case you end up at the doctor’s office. Keep the bikini line clean, the legs shaved (yes, even in the cold Canadian winter) and the toes pedicured, because you just never know who you may meet in that doctor’s office.
Expect the unexpected…you may get lucky!