According to Dante’s Inferno, there are 9 circles of Hell, and it is with great confidence that I say at least one of them is a poorly-lit and equally as poorly-decorated examination room at the Gyno’s office.
Let’s take a journey, shall we?
First circle: Limbo. Nothing quite says “let’s take a trip to the Underworld” quite like sitting outside your car before a soccer mom with a speculum takes a “quick peek” inside your undercarriage. Do I douse myself in Holy water before entering? Will she be able to smell my sins the moment she walks in? Despite your overwhelming inclination to reschedule, you know your mom will be pissed if you miss your yearly lady parts excavation so you suck it up, throw your purse over your shoulder, and pray that she’s impressed with the current state of your love box.
Second circle: The waiting room. Sitting in the waiting room marinating in your own fear is a lot like waiting to get your license photo retaken at the DMV, except with more crying babies and less time to wait and mentally prepare yourself for the pure f****** insanity that is about to transpire.
Third circle: A lady in pink scrubs with a homemade button displayed proudly on her chest that reads, “I love my Shih Tzu” guides you to your examination room, records your height and weight, and pops the question. “Are you sexually active?”
Once you divulge the nitty gritty of your ways to a woman that probably plays Bingo with your grandmother, you are forced to wait in silence for the doctor, which brings us to our next circle.
Fourth Circle, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Circle: Waiting. As you lay adorned with an itchy hospital gown made of paper, your legs spread wide like the Cheshire Cat’s smile, you are forced to indulge in some light reading on the walls, which convince you that you are in fact pregnant and you are absolutely going to die. Painfully.
Eighth Circle: Mid-Pap Smear Small Talk: You know how annoying it is when your dentist asks you questions while his hands are in your mouth? The gynecologist is a lot like that, except instead her hands are in your vagina. “How’s school?,” she asks, as she reaches her fingers up inside of you and grasps your ovaries like it’s nothing. “Uhhh, good,” is about all you can say because as I mentioned, her hands are inside of you.
Ninth Circle: The Pap Smear: Alas, we have reached the ninth circle, the fourth base of your appointment, if you will. Your doctor makes sure you’re all nice and relaxed, as if that’s even possible, and whispers quietly, “This is going to be a little weird.” Which you are very much aware of. Now, for the grand finale. She sticks the tool inside your happy valley, so far inside in fact that you fear it may come out your mouth. “Wiggle your toes it will help with the discomfort,” she says as if this is a scene from A Chorus Line. And just like that, it’s all over. You put on your clothes, sign a few papers that you didn’t read, and sprint out of there feeling violated, and oddly accomplished. You did it, you escaped.