The Ancient Art of Cervixmancy

It had been years since I saw my doctor. I never liked going to doctors in the first place (yeah, I'm an original!) but with this one I felt a wash of embarrassment whenever I thought of our last encounter.

My friend had recommended him. I was having some health problems and, er, well there's no use beating around the bush (really), I was having some, uh, sexual problems. I had been from doctor to doctor, test to test (including the mortifying experience I described in this video) for about a year. I was trying to ignore that anything was wrong with me but after I was forced to go to the emergency room, it was becoming harder to deny. Further, my relationship with my then boyfriend was suffering.

So, finally, I end up at this doctor (let's call him, Dr. Kane).

After I explain the issue he offered the following wise advice:

Doc: "Maybe you should take a break from having sex with your boyfriend for a bit."

Me: (Wailing:) "But that's all we have in common!"

I don't think I've ever seen a professional so unable to hide his expression of pity.

Cut to about 3 years later. Life is better, I am no longer with that guy (only a psychic could have predicated that wouldn't last).

I figure it's time for a check-up, so I make an appointment to see Dr. Kane.

I get there and update my records. New address, updates to health matters, and in the emergency contact field I change the name to that of my boyfriend, Chris L.___ (Just obscuring last name for his privacy here.)

Dr. Kane calls my name and then beams, recognizing me. "How are you doing?!"

I am both surprised and kind of flattered that I made any impression at him at all. He must see tons of people. Then again, he probably went home the night he saw me and said to his wife:

"Had the most pathetic girl in today. Just appalling. About 28, going nowhere, in a shitty relationship. Godawful perspective. Don't think I'd ever seen anyone that pitiful. I really hope she doesn't have a moment of self-awareness and blow her brains out tonight."

So probably not so flattering that I was memorable.

In any case, he was lovely and we went through a bunch of medical issues. Then it was time for the PAP test. (OK, any guys reading, please turn back to your computer. I promise I won't be delving into any real detail here, and I don't talk about this kind of thing often. It may even be funny and it will only hurt a little. There, there you go. Thanks.)

I get into position. It's awful and awkward and frankly these tests always make me want to weep no matter how OK the doctor is. It just feels violating and cold and gross. Also I had made the mistake of watching Cronenberg's "Dead Ringers" in the 80s and I think that lent a permanent air of creepiness to the whole exchange.

So, in the midst of the examination (or whatever the fuck these things involve. I'm usually too focused on the scene from "Dead Ringers" to really know.) Dr. Kane looks at my updated form.

He turns back to my area and continues to do whatever. Then he asks:

"Hmmm, Chris L.___ Is he divorced?"

Now I couldn't tell you a time that would be more awkward to talk about my relationship. I think the only thing that would have felt more disconcerting would be if he asked if I had filed my taxes yet this year.

"Er, Uh... Yes."

"Hmmm."

More examining.

Then,

"Is he... in his 40s?"

"Uh... he is."

More tinkering. Now:

"Does he have grey hair?"

It was around here that I felt a tinge of excitement: was my cooter a crystal ball...?!

"Yeesss," I replied.

Doc: "Was he married to the London Drugs heiress?"

"Oh, I wish!!!"

(Damn, that would have been sweet for us!)

Doc: "Oh, must be a different Chris L.____ then."

"Guess so."

So, it seems, my genitals were not meant to do any prognostication.

Which is too bad, because I would have loved to go toe to genitals with John Edwards when he comes into town next month.