Yesterday marked once again that time of the year, you know, the time where every woman finds herself suspended on a plastic chair with her feet hooked into metal slings, covered only by a cost saving paper napkin. And as always it was awesome! Now don’t get me wrong, I honestly don’t mind going for my annual check up, never have. In fact my very first OB/GYN was my best friend’s dad in high school. So clearly I don’t have any hang ups showing my private side.
The OB/GYN I see now is partner in a Comprehensive Women’s Clinic and came highly recommended when I moved to the city I live in now. The first time I went for my check up with said OB/GYN three years ago my appointment was scheduled for 3pm. I left the building at 5:30pm! And it had nothing to do with my running late! In fact I got there at 2:55pm and was asked to take a seat in the waiting room. By the time my name was called I could have read half of the Einstein biography, if only I had brought it with me. And I don’t know about you but the thought of picking up the complimentary magazines in the waiting room that date back to 1998 is something I totally refuse. So I passed time by staring at other women in the waiting room and watching their toddler wiggle in their seats, wrestling with their ever more frustrated mothers. I was finally led into the exam room by a friendly nurse around 4pm. After the initial blood pressure check and exchange pleasantries between total strangers in a room filled with gynecological equipment I was left to my own devices and slipped into the preverbal ”gown”. Although “gown” is not exactly what comes to mind when I unfold the crispy waffle plaid paper throw. And there I sat…and sat…and sat…and sat…and sat…and sat…and sat…AND SAT! I am not even kidding! Did I mention I had not brought a book? But even if I had, the murmur from the room next door would have been too intriguing for concentration. It sounded like a party was going on, literally. A party I was not invited to. A party not fit for the girl in the “gown”. With socks on her feet. As seconds turned to minutes, turned to quarter hours, turned to half hours, many a times I considered just walking out of the room and run through the back nurses station in my paper-mâché outfit. Only the logical thought “She must be coming into the room any minute now” kept my bare behind glued to the exam table. I thought that thought for 55 minutes by which time I was delusional from the dizziness that one thought replaying over and over in your mind causes. She did give me a half hearted apology about a first time ultra sound for a first time mother but I DID NOT CARE (apologies to all first time mom’s being excited about seeing their baby for the first time, but, I WAS IN A STATE).
I almost did not go back last year but I am all for second chances. And guess what? It went seamlessly and smooth as a bebe’s bottom. I was in and out in 30 minutes.
So, I did not give it another thought and booked my third appointment for yesterday. Three is a charm after all. What could possible go wrong? What? At first it all seemed so promising. I was called into the back within ten minutes, weighed (is it just me or does everyone want to take off their shoes before stepping onto that scale? Even though I have been the same exact weight for decades I still want to strip down to the bare essentials when I get weighed!), went for a last chance pit stop and followed the nurse to the very last exam room in the hallway. And when she opened the door and we stepped into the last room to the right we could both see our respective breaths… It was literally freezing. The nurse even let out a silent “burrrrrrrr” under her frozen breath and shivered. I almost lost all my ability to think clearly as I only imagined facing another marathon session of waiting, paper napkin clad. She tried to make a joke when she pulled out the “gown” and explained how to put it on properly but I was not laughing. Not one bit! In fact all funny business was off the table as I tried to figure out how to keep myself warm enough to escape without hypothermia or worse: frostbite! I literally kicked her out the room hoping that the sooner she left the sooner I would be attended to. But not before making it clear that I expected to be seen within five minutes or she would have to explain a patient walking the hallway with her “gown” hanging open. This time I had even brought a book but since I had had no idea I actually needed gloves I could not turn the pages. My demanding demeanor (at this point I could care less what impression I leave behind) must have made an impact as seven minutes into my solitary confinement (yes, I checked my watch) there was a knock on the door and the Mrs. OB/GYN hesitated to enter the room (I am thinking the nurse warned her about the temperature, or lack thereof). She immediately started to rub her hands together and uttered “Wow, it’s cold in here! There must be something wrong with the air conditioner!” You think?! Maybe the blueish hue of my knees gave it away, maybe the icicles forming on my freshly groomed (yes, I do tend to them before I visit the OB/GYN. You don’t?) bits about to be inspected under a halogen lamp (some heat at last), or maybe it was the violent shiver of my feet in stirrups. The thought alone of moving and exposing myself in such arctic conditions was almost more than I could bear. But in the end I braved the temperatures if only to get the heck back into my clothes and out into the warm hallway.
I cannot wait for next year. Maybe then all the odds will be in my favor and I get the room that houses the furnace. I will be dancing in my birthday suit, gown, schmoun!
Today’s Running Tip: Watch for Frostbite!
When running during the cold winter months pay special attention to your fingers, toes, ears, and nose. They might feel a bit numb at first but should warm up a few minutes into your workout. If you notice a patch of hard, pale, cold skin, you may have frostbite. Get out of the cold immediately and slowly warm the affected area. If numbness continues, seek emergency care.
