Ah yes, today – that day of the year we ladies so look forward to, something we eagerly await on the calendar:
The yearly exam.*
Today I met my new “Ladies Doctor”, by which I mean “gynie”, by which I mean doctor of Obstetrics and Gynecology, by which I mean the single other person besides my husband who gets to fiddle around with my lady-parts. Sophie accompanied me – the kids usually come to all our doctor’s appointments. I’d been prepared for an arrogant young male doctor and instead got a very friendly, very nice male doctor. A good first impression.
And lo and behold – due to a recent series of medical complications it was determined I would not have the exam today, but rather wait on the results of another little battery of tests at the hospital. Dodged the bullet! Shaved my legs for my own purposes! Did not have to have my breasts handled by a stranger nor be forced to don the “scary paper dress that scratches your tits” (to quote the illustrious Eve Ensler). I did, however, have my weight, blood pressure, pulse, heart and lungs examined, which Sophie that night journalled about.
Today I also accomplished: schoolwork for Suse, purchasing, assembling, and delivering an Emergency Pack for Nels, printing and delivering the monthly newsletter, picking up and delivering a t-shirt order, meeting with Suse’s teacher, picking up groceries (including insoluble fiber and fish oil – yum!), ferrying kids about, doing yet more schoolwork with Sophie, and playing catch-up on my novel.
Today I forgot: to get chicknz feed!
Oh well – no one’s perfect.
* For some super-lucky fillies, the frequency is a little higher; like my friend who, because she has diabetes, gets volunteered for a pap smear about every four months.