Gyno-oh-no

I have to go to the gynecologist next week for my annual exam. 

Maybe this would not be such a huge ordeal if I wasn't still traumatized from my last visit. WHAT A DISASTER! There were a lot of tears, a lot of anxiety, and a lot of stress. I don't even get why I even have to go. I don't get any action. The chances of my actually utilizing my box are about as slim as an anorexic White girl!  Not to mention that I almost killed myself trying to get on the examination table last time. It was so high! I had to run and jump to get on it and the damn thing almost flipped over on me! Can you imagine a more unfortunate way to die than getting smushed under an exam table while preparing for a routine pap?! I'd rather my family tell my friends that I was shot in a whore house raid. 

On top of the horror of it all, I am currently beefing with my gyno. A few weeks ago, I thought that I might be getting a yeast infection (TMI), and if you read my blog, you recall how mortifying my last one was. It was my first one ever, and I was hysterical! I know what you are thinking: you were 36, how is that possible? I had the same question. Since I had never had one, I thought somehow that I was immune to them. Spoiler alert: I'M NOT! Anywho, I mentally could not handle the melodrama of last year, so I called and asked the nurse at the gyno office to ask the doc to write me a prescription for a common yeast infection medication. Long story short, he said no. HE SAID NO! He said he wanted me to come in, even though I had just been in for blood work this summer and already had an upcoming appointment on the books. Then the nurse tells me that I can either come in or go to urgent care. URGENT CARE? Why would I do that if I have a f&*king gynecologist?! What am I, a commoner? The reason why I got a gynecologist with an address and a mailbox and a degree was so that I would not have to sit in a crowded urgent care room, silently praying over my crotch while being sneezed on by the COVID positive. Being told no by a man in this situation outraged me so much that I can't even explain it. 

When I think about arriving for my visit, I imagine being dragged into the office and across the carpet by a giant as I scream and claw at the floor. Winter is already an emotional landmine for me, I honestly can't take any more drama. We have come so far in science as a country, how is there no at-home pap test women can perform on themselves in the privacy of their homes? I could easily do mine as I caught up on reruns on Hulu. Ah, to wish on a star. 

I will keep yall posted on what will inevitably be another fine nightmare. Yay.