There are certain things that are just “female”. We all know that the female anatomy is different than a man’s. We know that a female’s emotions are more pronounced than a man’s. I know, we don’t like to admit it but it is just true. We are created to be emotional creatures and that is to our benefit as well as to our families. We are the heart of the family; the emotional compass, if you will.
We also have different medical needs. We are physiologically different and can’t be treated by the medical field as a man can. Our weight is distributed differently. A man can lose 5lbs by cutting out one soda a week and we women struggle to lose one pound by limiting our caloric intake for a month. It is supremely frustrating but that’s the way it is.
One of the things that is unique to being a woman is the Yearly Medical Exam by her lovely Gynecologist. Women throughout history have had a love/hate relationship with their gynecologist. On the one hand, they are someone we want a friendly relationship with because of their power over us and yet it is hard to look them in the eyes when you see them out and about. If they are your OB as well, then you are VERY friendly with them! You become a literal BFF with them for the 9 months of your pregnancy. I’m here to tell you that my OB was an absolute miracle worker with all four of my pregnancies. He let me cry when I needed to and promised me that it would come to an end eventually!
I love him.
Not in that way. But in the way of a best girlfriend that has seen me through hard times and still talked to me afterward. That kind of love.
But… I also don’t like seeing him now that I am done having babies. It is hard to look at someone who has seen more parts of you than your husband. Know what I mean?
What brings this up is this: I just went in for my Yearly Exam seven years too late. I have had a regular Yearly Exam ever since I was 20 years old. I have been faithful to go every year the week of my birthday ever since then. But something happened seven years ago. I had four kids, was homeschooling, was a coach at the Y, and probably a few other things thrown in there for good measure. I was crazy busy. It’s not an excuse, I know, but that was my life. And I let that be an excuse to not do an uncomfortable thing.
The first year I didn’t schedule my appointment I promised myself I would call later that year.
Then one year turned into two and two into four. Pretty soon it was six years and I was too embarrassed to call.
Then I saw one of the nurses in Wal-Mart. I tried to hide from her but she saw me before I could fully evade her. That had something to do with Steven standing there saying, “What? What do you mean, I need to be here.” Master of concealment he is not. So, I was found out and she said something.
It went something like this:
“Why hello there, Renita.” Yes, she remembered my name. One of our daughters almost died during delivery and my pregnancies were not walks in the park!
“Hi!” I did NOT remember her name. Honestly, I couldn’t even place where I knew her from until she was gone and we were on our way home in the car and even then it was just a vague recollection.
“How are you doing? We haven’t seen you in a while.”
Guilt from someone I can’t remember? Oh yeah, I was feeling it. I shame-facedly looked at her and said, “Yeah.” Brilliant, right? It’s all this comeback queen could come up with.
“I won’t tell Doctor I saw you until you come back in.” Small mercy? I wasn’t so sure at the time. But I was going to take it and run. Literally.
“Okay. I will come in very soon.” How I was going to do this when I didn’t even know to which doctor she was referring was a statistical impossibility. But I promised anyway. Honestly, if I knew which doctor I might have called right then out of shame alone.
“Have a good evening, Renita.” Again with my name.
“I will, you too.” I turned my eyes toward Steven and frantically motioned for him to walk away. Again, he was not understanding me and kept standing there smiling. I grabbed his hand and pulled him away. Quickly. Without it seeming like I was running away from her…which I was. I just didn’t want her to know that!
When we were a safe distance away – read: on the other side of the store – I slowed to a walk. Steven was still dutifully following behind me, not saying a word. When I finally stopped and he could see the panicked look in my eyes he asked, “Who was that?”
Honesty was my only option. I couldn’t lie because I had no idea who she was. I mean, she did seem familiar but not enough for me to place her. Anywhere. “I have no idea. She is from some doctor’s office but I don’t know which one.”
And being the man he is, his reply was classic. “Huh, okay. What else did you need before we leave?”
There was no other discussion and he had no idea of the guilt racking my body. He just moved on like it was no big deal. I was consumed with figuring out who this woman was and which doctor was missing me…
The turmoil was epic.
I did not find out for months who that woman was or which doctor she worked for. When I did figure it out was another night out with my husband at a concert. We were riding the shuttle back to our car and a woman got on that I recognized. I stared at her, ’cause you know, that’s what you do to strangers on a city bus, and finally figured out how I knew her. She was a nurse at my ob/gyn’s office…the light was fluttering off and on. It took me about 5 minutes to put the pieces together and then the light finally stayed on in this dimly lit head of mine.
The woman in Wal-Mart and this woman on the bus work in the same office. You know, the office I hadn’t seen in way too many years to say it again. I tried to avoid eye contact with her after I realized who she was but she was having none of that. Thankfully she didn’t shame me and we went on our merry way.
The bus incident was two years ago. Yes, I know, I am a terrible patient. I just got busy? No, that’s not a good excuse I just was not looking forward to being felt up by a guy while lying exposed to the world in a cold room on an uncomfortable table all the while imagining myself somewhere less awkward.
Well, finally after 7 years of putting it off, I went in. I finally called and made the dreaded appointment though. I did it because my daughters are nearing the age of being inducted into this club and I want them to faithfully see their doctor. I want them to partner with their doctor for their health and to not be ashamed or embarrassed to do what needs done.
Thankfully, when I went in they were only a little upset with me. They were more glad to see me than annoyed and teased me mercilessly. The nurses that I had run into were both there and joked about seeing me, the doctor asked if I remembered him…We reminisced and they asked about what had been happening in my life. We poured over pictures and then had to get down to business.
And by business, I mean utter embarrassment and awkwardness.
It all turned out just fine and we rekindled our cordial Dr./patient relationship. As my doctor left he said, “See you next year?” I didn’t answer right away and so he turned and looked at me. “Right? Yes, ma’am?” Oh, he was talking to me? I stammered an agreement before he left and looked at the nurse. She raised her eyebrows at me, waiting. “I really will!”
After getting dressed, I hurried out into the hall and straight to the appointment desk. I knew if I didn’t make the appointment right then I wasn’t going to. So, I scheduled an appointment for a year from now and proudly showed the nurses. “Make sure Doctor knows I already scheduled for next year.” They winked at me and wished me a good day.
I intend on keeping my appointment and being a good example to my daughters so they will know the importance of staying healthy.