My Eyes Are Up Here

Hello beautiful souls!

I have been doing a lot of deep thinking lately, and frequently, these thoughts lead to awkward and embarrassing thoughts. These awkward memories got me thinking about satire and how comedians often take awkward and embarrassing moments and find the humor in them. These thoughts continued to snowball until I came up with this idea for a blog post. This is how my brain works, and so it seems my entire life, like all of my kitchen appliances deciding to stop working, one right after the other in two months’ time!

Have you ever noticed how there are certain things no one ever tells you about becoming an adult? For example, I bet no one ever told you, you would have a favorite stove burner. Admit it; you do, don’t you? Mine’s the front right. Anyway, I digress. Why the hell didn’t any of the women in my family tell me how awkward visiting the gynecologist is!? The only stories I heard were horror stories about some medieval torcher device that spreads your vagina like it’s some kind of “Stretch Armstrong.”

I was in my early twenties the first time I went to the gynecologist. I wanted my mom to go with me, but she was sick and wasn’t able to. It was the start of her decline in health. Anyway, I thought about asking my friend, Amanda, to accompany me, and even though it was more than likely a weekday, I know she would have found a way to be there for me if I had, in fact, asked her. But I was a big girl. I could do this!

I walked in, legs freshly shaved, makeup, and hair on point just in case he was handsome. He turned out to be a woman, and that calmed my nerves just a little.

“Take off all of your clothes.” She demanded as soon as I closed the door behind me.

“All of them?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m going to fondle your breasts while I talk to you nonchalantly to make the situation as awkward as possible,” is not what she said, but I am taking advantage of the opportunity to apply foreshadowing.

She left me alone in the room and instructed me once again to remove all of my clothes, place a thin napkin over my lap and lie back and get comfortable.

Yeah, like I could relax while my hoo-ha was on display in front of this gorgeous woman who looked like she just walked out of a Vanity Fair Magazine. Thank goodness I shaved my legs! I’m not one to compare myself to other women, but she was intimidatingly beautiful. 

She entered the room and could tell I was anxious, so she placed a gloved hand on my shoulder and tried to calm my nerves. She moved her hands down to my breasts and started to feel for lumps.

“Any plans for the upcoming holiday?” She asked as if fondling another woman’s breasts within minutes of meeting them was completely normal. Although, for her, I suppose it was.

Once she was satisfied with the state of my twins, she headed down south. For the record, no medieval torcher devices were used during my appointment.

“Oh my god!” Is not the words a lady wants to hear when someone places their face right near her cachucha, but it’s what I got.

Followed by, “Your toenails are so cute!”

I released a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

She yelled for the nurse to come check out my toenails that had been painted like the American flag in honor of Independence Day.

Meanwhile, I’m laying there, spread eagle, exposed to the world, save for the thin napkin across my lap. I just wanted to get back to the task at hand!!

When they were finally done, I felt somewhat violated! I was poked, prodded, and scraped. I definitely deserved a London fog after that visit!

About a week later I received a call about my results. They weren’t good. I heard the three dreaded words no one wants to hear:

“You have cancer.”

I was standing in the parking lot of the job I worked for, luckily everyone had already left, and I fell to my knees and cried. I was so scared!

After a few consultations, I finally met with the surgeon. He was handsome. Incredibly handsome. Where did the hospital find these supermodel physicians? I was embarrassed at the thought of him seeing my naughty bits but kept reminding myself that he was a professional.

He informed me that I did not have cancer. I was furious! Don’t get me wrong. I was thrilled I didn’t actually have cancer, but I was pissed that my gynecologist put me through that, and I have now switched doctors.

I did have a disorder known as dysplasia, which basically means I had an abnormal amount of cancer cells in my cervix that caused damage to my cervical walls, potentially turning to cancer. I needed to have part of my cervix removed with a procedure called a LEEP. Besides having my wisdom teeth removed, it was the first surgery I had ever had, and once again, I was petrified.

The surgery was a success and fortunately, I didn’t have any complications.

This brings me to the next awkward moment…

I once again found myself spread eagle with a bright light shined on my nether region for the follow-up appointment.

“How’s your father?” The surgeon asked as he was digging his way to China.

I stared at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye while he spoke into my vagina. “Fine thanks, how’s yours?” I responded, in my awkward state, not thinking about what I was actually saying. I cringed as the words left my mouth.

I made the mistake of glancing at him, and he arched a confused eyebrow at me. “I meant with your dads cancer.”

“Oh, right.” I nervously chuckled.

For the first time in my life, I was grateful for small talk. That was until…

“You have a pretty cervix.”

“Umm….. thank you?”

He laughed. “I’m sure that’s not something you hear every day.” He replied.

“Or ever.” I retorted.

Pretty?! My cervix is pretty? This still baffles me. How is it pretty? Is it sparkly? Does it glow?

Such a pretty cervix!

He continued to talk into me, and I laid there wishing he would wait until he could look me in the eye, but alas, I continued talking about how pleasant the weather had been and anything that took my mind off of the uncomfortable situation I was in.

Now, this surgeon follows me on Instagram since we both share a love of sky and nature photography. I’m just grateful he hasn’t posted any pictures of pretty cervixes.

Do you have any awkward stories you can look back on and laugh about?

Love & life lessons,

Kristian