WFI = Changing Doctors

So my old doctor/pediatrician/my mother's good friend had to go when i turned 22. well, she didn't HAVE to by law or anything, but she had to for me to be sane. because in case you didn't read what i just wrote she was a pediatrician and my mother's good friend. And i was 22. and shouldn't be hanging out in a waiting room with dinosaurs painted on the walls and a Playskool kitchen set in the corner while my mom's dinner and a movie buddy runs her hands all over my body. no thank you! also, you know, since she's my mom's friend, every time she asked me anything with the words "sex" or "drugs" in the question i just automatically had to answer no NEVER!!! for fear that if i said yes she would scurry into her little office, pick up her little cell phone and dial my mother!!! and then i would be so grounded...


nonsense!!!!

so new doctor time!


and my first appointment was yesterday.

I answered all their silly questions about family history (most of which i think i guessed on...because as it turns out, i don't know anything about my family at all!). Even on my OWN PERSONAL HISTORY. "So, you mention you see a cardiologist, what conditions do you have?" "Well, i don't remember the name of it but it has to do with like, something in my chest not working right and then a family history of something involving elevated levels of stuff i shouldn't have in my body."

specific.

"mmhmmm..." says the doctor lady. "well if you were taking this medication, then i'm assuming you had ::insert name of some problem::." "i think i've heard that before. i have that. yeah. that's the heart thing." (by the way, it's not, i later found out)

anyway, then she says, "and how about pap smears. are you regular on those??"

GET OUT OF TOWN. NO. STOP.

"let's do one right now!"
"no."

i dont think this woman has ever been told no before. she was so confused. her eyes screamed, "no? what? but the speculum is out already! and i just put on this glove!"

"no, we can skip that today. i'm not really interested in having that done."

silence.

"so...is that it?" i asked her.

and no. she took her glove off and asked me if she could "at least" do a breast exam.

AT LEAST.

like, oh man, if i can't et you to take your pants off can i puh leeeez unhook your bra! she actually did ask if she could unhook it for me. like, helping me out style i think. but nonetheless, no. i've been unhooking my bra since i was 12. yeah. TWELVE MOTHER FUCKERS. WHAT'S IT TO YOU.


and then you know, she starts doing her job, making conversation, telling me what she is doing...and then...

"so do you prefer men or women??"

wait what? did you seriously just ask me that while rubbing your fingers in a circular motion around my nipples? wait, come again?

the question was also on the initial questionnaire i had to fill out (with a check mark right next to MEN). which i definitely found a little weird - had they not changed their question sheet since the 1980s? but anyway...

what a weird time to ask me. and before i could even answer her -

"you know, because you don't want the pap smear, is it because you think girls cant transmit disease to other girls? so you don't think you have anything to worry about?" she continued...


"i just don't want to take my pants off today..." actually, i said it more like, "i just don't want to take my pants off today??"

and that was pretty much it. she told me next time we should do the "thing i didn't want to do". i said, "oh definitely."


there really wont be a next time though. not anytime soon at least...

so yeah. worst fucking idea? new doctors. did i mention she is also my mom and dad's doctor? i dont think i can talk to her either...


BTW, she is a good doctor, i just make every situation more and more awkward with my horrible interpretations of the world around me. please don't sue me doc!

Shout out to my Grady lady/I don't care that you are a victim of a crime, what are you going to do for me?

Yo Colleen from work,

I'm really sorry about what happened tonight. I just feel awful for you and your loss. It really sucks. When you walked into the back room in a panic that your purse was missing, I knew it wasn't in the salon and that no one at work took it. I just knew it. I knew you had to have left it somewhere. I am really glad you listened to my suggestion of going back to Au Bon Pain. And even though you did actually leave it outside on the patio and someone took it into the women's bathroom and stole your credit card, iphone, $300 in cash and left it in the trash only to be found later by the cleaning crew, I don't think there's anything further we can do right now. You're safe. I'm safe. There weren't any stillborns cozying up to your purse in the dumpster. There's nothing for us to really worry about anymore. Except for my legs. That's right, my hairy legs.

Yeah, I am really glad to help you call to cancel your card and phone service and talk to the police. And I always enjoy being the calm and collected one in a crisis. Your thank yous are such an ego boost. I also really enjoy being right, so to find that your epitome of perfection vintage purse that I am so jealous of, albeit raped of your finer things, was actually still at ABP is kind of like a high five to my heart. And I really really like you cause you're awesome and a babe and I am glad that the only things that were stolen are replaceable. The purse itself is safe. And that's all I care about. Besides, you are a magnet for money and your iphone complete with babelicious photo of myself, although precious and loved by you and me both equally, is just a few weeks away from being able to be purchased again. You know, don't worry about it. You can take a picture of me with a new phone anytime. As tragic as tonight may seem for you, you are so blessed and rich in a lot of ways. Plus, I am probably going to buy your couch in which case, you'll be $75 wealthier.

But back to me. And the legs. The ones I was was waxing when you burst into the back room with that teary panic look you wore for the next two hours. I only got one and a half waxed. Now I gotta walk around with half a leg looking like Lohan's crotch and the other half looking like Brit's weave. I don't have time to go to the salon tomorrow, and Thursday I am working from sun up and going out until sun down. And by sun down, I mean early Friday morning. And by plans I mean working on making out with an Irish boy. So let's all be glad we're not talking about a half waxed upper lip or anything because those already slim chances would be looking Nicole Richie slim about now.

In conclusion Colleen, you owe me. I know you're making me and Elin dinner at your house on Friday, but you offered way long ago and I gave you twenty five bucks to get home, so we are not even right now. Don't think you don't owe me. And now that we're talking about it, I need my underarms done too...

Coughwax these legscough,
Meghan.