The vagina is something that never ceases to amaze me. She has so much going on and yet is so very quiet. She is often the topic of various conversations due to her mere existence. Why, there are even poems about her. As I age, she unfolds yet another mystery about herself that I did not know before. There are various substances that she produces with blood being probably the most popular. There are many lessons that she teaches without pregnancy even being on the table. However, I was on the table yesterday. My vagina taught an entire class. We took notes.

It was high time for me to go in for a physical. While I do believe in scheduling appointments to see all of my specialists, the one thing that I do not do is a physical. Yes, my beloved PCP has spoken to me sternly about this practice of mine which I would not enforce on anyone else. I just get to the point where I do not want to see anyone else. When I go in to have my teeth cleaned, there is the oral hygienist and the dentist. Both of them want to be in the middle of my mouth with shiny sharp instruments that do not please me. The dental hygienist likes to sing while that damn brush thing is squeaking so that I have to plug my ears. I like the dermatologist. Her face is absolutely beautiful with such vibrant skin. Her office is the place to be with such beautiful décor and the ladies at the front desk look like fashionistas. I am in and out of her office within ten minutes. The most painful thing being parking. Naturally, these professionals have painted a nice picture for the one that women around the world love and hate: the ob/gyn.

Yesterday was the first part of my physical. An intern saw me which has happened before and is always pleasant. Before I saw her, the womens’ health practicioner spoke to me about my head wrap. As we spoke, my mind reflected on the first time that she saw me. I felt as if she had treated me like her own child; an instant adoption. She told me all about her background prior to going into a breast exam. Then there was the wonderful speculum. I requested that she use the small one. She blinked and politely informed me that she would use the small one; however, if she could not see what she needed to see that she would have to upgrade to a larger one and that we wanted to avoid going in twice. Loud laughter soon filled the room as there was no way to contain myself.

The intern happily came to attend to me. She updated my medical history to include the sciatica and c4 tales of woe. She asked if I wanted to have a pap. My mind thought about how much easier it would be to have it done right now instead of going all the way to the hospital to have my main ob/gyn take care of it and then fork over the hefty copay thanks to my lovely new insurance company. A bright yes was soon heard, and I wrapped myself in my nice scarf in anticipation. What happened next can only be described as a side comedy show. My vagina was about to be the subject of study for the intern.

When the practicioner arrived, we laughed and began talking about my head wrap. The intern had to begin with a breast exam which of course prompted many a comment from me including laughter. She was stopped by her teacher, and my thigh suddenly had tapping of sorts. The intern was then instructed to continue with the exam and my laughter subsided; the tickling had stopped. I looked at the teacher in awe. She had applied her expertise to the current situation and showed the intern how to prevent such stimulation. They soon moved on to the main topic of the day.

The stirrups were brought out. They were naked. I inquired about the footies because I felt as if they should have had purple footies to make the process easier. The teacher began wiping them down and said that she thought that they were better without footies because of constant germs clogging the cloth. However, she went on to say that next time they would have footies just for me with cartoon faces. This took care of my footie desire. It was quite interesting to hear the two of them speak in medical terms about my vagina which was now with company and being used as a diagram. There is a distinct difference between a gyn exam and an ob/gyn exam. This was very interesting to me because ob/gyn is said as one word when in fact they are two.
My former thoughts resurfaced: my god, doctors do not consider any hole sacred. They will go into your nose, ear, throat, back door…all in the name of your health. The small speculum was used which immediately prompted a question that was met with the answer of Virgin Mary. It remained there longer than I would have liked but felt the sympathies of the two women. I was soon thanked for being a willing party for the lesson, and felt quite happy to have been the test subject. My vagina is now a teacher!

My mother would probably pass out if she knew that I wrote this because it is of a rather personal nature. While this is true, every woman has to go through this process, and I do not see the harm in discussing it. I once exclaimed to one of her friends that they never talk about what goes on in the pregnancy room and that the younger generation (ME), needs to know. Why do I have to wait if you already know?! Tell me! She dropped details like a stripper on a pole. Men would do well to understand the process as well so that they understand why their significant others may not want to have sex for a while. So here, I have done it. It is yet another chapter in the life of a woman. This one just happens to be a bit more colorful than most. Cheers.