As often happens here, magically, synchronistically, periods-in-unison-style, we all end up writing about the same topic at the same time. There was Depression day (on which Emily said to me: "I'M the one who's depressed around here"), Cleanse week(s) and then, as Bryan mentioned to you yesterday, it started raining Gynecologists.
We got three separate posts in with that theme within 24 hours. And I had just that day had my own Super-Weird gyno experience that I was about to tell you about and, well, here it is and what I learned from it:
I could have maybe seen it as a red flag that this gynecologist's office contacted my office asking me if I'd like to come in for an appointment.
I could have maybe realized that it was odd that the receptionist calling to confirm said that they were So Excited to have me in.
After I rescheduled once and was going to again -- just too busy to have a random gyno appointment when I'd already had a check-up with my longtime awesome gyno about six months before -- Bryan said that I probably shouldn't reschedule again because they had called the office and sounded so upset that I had rescheduled the first time. Perturbed I could understand, but upset??
I could have seen it as interesting that they said they were going to give me the VIP treatment. Huh? You all gave me your takes on what that could even mean, like fur-lined stirrups and champagne in the waiting area.
Well, I went anyway. It was a co-dependent move. (I let a surgeon take out an organ once partly because he seemed to want to so badly -- that's a story for my Qualification if I go into Codependent Rehab or CODA.)
And here's some of what potentially happens when you go to an Ob-Gyn who has watched you on TV, read magazines you've run, is probably reading this right now, etc., and why I won't do it again (let me note that it could go other ways and that actually famous people go to gynos too and that there are certainly ones out there with better bedside manners for this kind of thing):
This Is Surreal
She picks up your underwear off the chair while you are in the stirrups and says, "YOU wear this cheapy underwear? I never would have imagined that!"
She tells you about famous people who have been in her office (I won't name them here -- OF COURSE).
She compliments you on how aesthetically pleasing your labia are ("This is exactly how labia should look -- though that will likely change as you get older!").
She talks about how similar the texture of your pubic hair is to hers, and, yes, you have discussed your and others' styles of pubic hair many times on Jane Radio, Jane magazine, this site, BUT not what you want to talk to your gyno about while she has a speculum in you.
While you are getting changed, you hear all the very sweet office assistants talking about how they used to watch your TV talk show way back when.
The doctor tells you that they have cleared out the office for you -- blocked out three appointment slots, I gather the ones both before and after yours -- which you come to understand must be what the VIP treatment means. Having waited for hours in stirrups before, I am not at all complaining about how sweet this is. I guess I can understand that there may be pregnant celebrities who want this amount of privacy, and maybe the doctor wants me to promote her practice as being very celebrity-friendly? I don't know. Your thoughts?
Help Me Put A Name To This
I was very shaken up by the experience. Not as bad as when a famous friend had his nude doctor's photos shown to other patients -- that would really suck.
Here's a side-note: I have placed calls for celebrity friends asking doctors for the prices of various procedures to see if they were being overcharged and the average jack-up rate for famous folks is 42% above what a regular person pays.
AND, while we are all on the topic of our vaginas, let's just go ahead and declare April Vagstravaganza Month. Please send your vaginally/gynecologically-themed IHTMs to email@example.com so we can run yours, too. Lesley suggests we change the O in the xoJane logo to a gaping vulva for the rest of this month and wonders if that's too much. Bryan suggests we call it gynovagilavulva month, but I think he has an "l" where an "n" should be, no?
Your suggestions of what to call this period (huh) are so so very welcome. I love them already. And if you want to just tell me that I'm an unappreciative wuss, I'll take that too.
Love you and your oatmeal boobs and your elderly labia, or whatever you may have or not have in those bodily regions.
If you'd like to learn more about my vagina, follow me @JanePratt. (I also talk about famous penises!)