Happy FREAKIN' Friday, everybody! We made it. I normally LOVE Friday. It's my favorite day of the week in fact, as it holds such promise. Today, however, I "get" to go to the gynecologist! For joy! Just the ol' "annual exam". Wahoo. Let's see......amongst the indignities I shall suffer today? I get to stand on a scale. This doesn't send shivers down my spine as it did during the thyroid shit storm days but I really don't want to know what I weigh. I'm happy with the way I look, I'm healthy, I don't want to get hung up on a number. Plus, I'm one of those people that always gets the smart ass nurse saying, "Wow! You don't LOOK like you weigh that much". Gee, thanks. I'm 5'9" and I'm not a small person. Even when I was borderline anorexic back in college, I weighed 128 and that is just piss poor for an anorexic. I did look quite skeletal though, so there's that. When I walked down the aisle (sashayed, really.......I do so love being the center of attention) at my wedding, I was what for me is a perfect size 8. I weighed 148 which would horrify many women. I'm sure I weigh a bit more than that now. Don't care. I look pretty good for an old broad. So anyway, I get to stand on the scale, close my eyes and instruct the nurse to zip it. THEN, I get to go into a room, strip down to everything but my socks and sit there in a hospital gown waiting. Today, I won't even be waiting for my doctor as she can't be bothered to work on Fridays (which is my only "free" day) so I get to see the nurse practitioner. Or should I say she's going to see me. A LOT of me. More of me than I'd ever care to see. I'm not even sure what's down there. I sincerely hope that moths don't fly out. Moths not withstanding, having a pelvic exam is the ultimate in indignity. It's almost as bad as childbirth. Although I had a c-section, so what do I know? Please don't write me angry letters.....I'm quite sure doing it the good ol' fashion way sucks sufficiently. Anyway, you're sitting there ("scooch your butt up to the edge of the table please") with your legs up in the air (and wave 'em like you just don't care) and having someone not only looking around but sticking things up there. Cold, hard things (NOT good things). Ahhh, the speculum. Such a delight. I could go into more graphic detail at this point but I'm not going to go any further as I'm sure there are men passing out left and right. Sorry boys, but that's what happens. It sucks. Holy SHIT. I just had a horrible thought. What if this "nurse practitioner", whom I have never met, IS A MAN????? OH. MY. GOD. I will run away screaming. I know some women LOVE their male OBGYN's but I have NEVER had one and NEVER will. I would sooner have everything that's "up in there" dry up and fall right on out. God. NOW I'm having a panic attack......oh no........going to breath into paper bag. Will report back.