the lady lady doctor.

I was given three bits of advice:  A) Be there at ten thirty. B) Don’t be nervous. and C) Wear cute socks.

I wore cute socks, and let the rest go to shambles.

Who knew going to the gynecologist could be so much fun?

It all started because Woman thought she knew where she was going. Therefore, we didn’t use the GPS in my car and ended up trapped in cancer parking. Literally. We couldn’t get out. We tried jumping on the sensors, pushing the box, but, alas, nothing was working and it was ten forty.

We eventually got out of Satan’s parking lot, and then Robin came to save us, we followed her to the hood where my gynecologist’s office was located. No joke, it’s a good thing I had my whistle.

We entered the building, we had to go in the back door, and I realized that I had made a major wardrobe mistake. My oversized shirt, tank top underneath, and skinnies? Yes. That’s what ashamed 16 and pregnant girls wear to their gynecological appointments. I’m neither sixteen or pregnant. Robin was making me stand this horror because of being rushed to the hospital last week after collapsing due to female pain like I’ve never felt before. (graphic?)

It’s a good thing it’s not the receptionists job to inform us that my lady lady doctor was located at the Orem office. It’s a good thing I don’t care about getting the stink eye from several mom looking figures. Don’t judge me. Normal people go to the gynecologist all the time. Robin said so.

Robin drove us to the Orem office. We got to use the front door and this office was happy. The receptionist was very nice. She didn’t give me the stink eye. Yet.

We filled out my gynecological history, it took about seven seconds, and she asked my mom to sign it since I wasn’t over eighteen. Great. Not only did she think I was a teen mom, she thought I was sixteen and pregnant. I informed her that I could sign my own paperwork , and she looked shocked. Hello stink eye. Robin said that her face was just like that (gold star if you know where that comes from).

I won’t go into the lovely details, but I told Robin I’d be running away if I saw any stirrups of any kind. I didn’t have to do that. I did get an ultrasound; the jelly was really cold just like in all the movies, and all Robin and I could see was my poop.

Guess what? I’m fine.

Ahem. Robin?  I. Told. You. So.

So, lady friends, going to see your local gynecologist isn’t too bad. Mine was nice, and lots of fun actually. I learned so, so much.

And Robin bought me PINK HUNTER RAINBOOTS at grown-up girl shopping day, because I was so good.  

Happy Monday friends! This song will get stuck in your head. Believe me!