Today, I will be ranting about going to the gynecologist. Be warned.
My periods and I are not friends at all. Basically I have these earth-shattering cramps that make me throw up and pass out, combined with stomach angryness. Oh it’s a good time.
Last time I went to the gyn. she just told me to take advil. My regular doctor also told me to take advil. ADVIL DOESN’T WORK FOR THIS!
I’m not a fan of having people look at my vag. but I figured it would be better to get checked out rather than to be in the fetal position on the bathroom floor crying every month. So today, I sauntered on in to the office, signed in and all that, and proceeded to sit on a very floral themed couch. Waited, waited, waited more. After about a half an hour, I went up to the receptionist and was like “Hey, thought I had an appointment.” She assumed I was just hanging out on the couch waiting for someone. It smelled like old ladies in there and I wouldn’t be lounging around on my own free will. Gah! I’m kind of assuming she thought I was a boy. Neat.
She handed me this pink shirt thing and ushered me into a room. Awesome. Got naked, put it on. It was basically transparent. My nipple piercings were visible, my luxurious leg hair was all over the place. It was great.
Gyn. comes in like 20 minutes later and asks me if I use condoms or not. I sleep with girls, lady. “Girls have diseases, too.” And that was all she had to say about safe lesbian sex. I was astonished. I almost gave her a lecture on toy materials and dental dams and gloves and stuff. Then she said the only thing that would make my cramps better was birth control pills. I asked if she could just remove everything, but alas she said no. What a skank. She also acted like I had never seen a speculum before.
All in all, it was a super bad day to be any kind of manly. Sad, sad times.