Friday, November 11

Dr. Gynecologist

I sat completely naked, aside from a thin pink tissue-paper gown, as I waited for the (This is for girls only, boys to be redirected HERE) Gynecologist to come in for my semi-annual check-up.  He asked me if I felt okay.  I was sweating profusely.  Then he took my heart rate and apologized, "Now I know why you are sweating, I'm sorry I make you nervous, I know you hate this."  That did not help.  I felt the temperature in my cheeks increase a few degrees.  It is an icebox in here.  Stop sweating!

Dr. Gynecologist tries to make conversation while my heels are up on stirrups and he throbs my insides with medical objects.  
Doctor: So how is law school?  My daughter, you remember, she is at Cornell Med School, with extra elite honors for brilliant people only, and studying to become a super successful Doctor.  She would become a doctor-lawyer-CPA hybrid if the school would only allow her, but they insist she focus on medicine only because she is just bound to cure cancer.  She also won a Nobel Peace Prize. 
Me: Actually, I deferred Wash U this year.  
Doctor: (Probe, probe) Oh, and what are you doing instead? 
Snap.  Brain circuits disconnected due to awkward situation overload.  Convulsion.  Eyes rolling back.  

(At the moment I am not sure where I am going with this post.  Instead of continuing here, I will change the subject completely.  Consider this an intermission and feel free to get a refreshment or use the restroom at this time. Enjoy!)

I came home and decided to illustrate why I am angry with my Gynecologist.  

Mom: What!

Me: Look at my new drawing! (Waiting for my mom to explode with laughter and drool on herself in pride for her artistically talented offspring) MOM why aren't your laughing?

Mom: Tali, it's a little gross.
Me: It's not gross, it's funny! It's Dr. Sherwin!

Mom: I don't visualize Dr. Sherwin like that and it just paints a really graphic picture in my head. Maybe you should take it down.

Me: Mom! You're not supposed to think about the image literally, it is just supposed to make you smile, like a joke. Obviously Dr. Sherwin doesn't hold up medical cervix tools to show me.

Mom: I don't get it. You use such beautiful images for some posts, maybe you can reuse one of those.

Me: (super aggravated) Mom, everyone goes to the Gynecologist. This is not porn!

Mom: Well maybe you could change the comic into future tense, "I will put this in your cervix." Then it wouldn't be so visually disturbing.

Me: (exploding into a million pieces out of maximum aggravation caused by mother that does not understand brilliantly humorous artwork and offers a bazillion less funny suggestions involving the English tenses.)

Mom: Because future tense implies that he is holding something sterile, but it is written in past tense. I don't want readers thinking about your down-there part, or about what just came out of it.

Me: Oh. I did not see it that way.

The End 



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