Dear Dr. Gyno...
Yes, I know, it's been awhile! And, yes, I know we are supposed to see each other more often, but I will be honest with you... I don't like you! Not you in particular, as I literally just started seeing you today, but your profession… gynecology as a whole… it makes me nauseous and so I am less than enthusiastic about making that annual appointment.
When I was younger, I didn’t really care one way or the other, but this all changed when I was struggling to be heard and diagnosed with PCOS. The “professionals” all felt as though they knew my body better than I did, but they were wrong. After already successfully finding my own thyroid issues, I self-diagnosed my PCOS and I insisted on being tested. Finally, after more than a year of my body being invaded, someone (with a medical degree) finally agreed with me! Subsequently, I was poked, prodded and treated like a lab rat for the better part of a decade… and that was all BEFORE I even became pregnant! Another 9 months of humility, complicated with a high risk pregnancy, and I was more than happy to be rid of all of you as soon as my postpartum appointment was over with! In fact, I made up my mind then and there that I was never going back to my original gynecologist, as she clearly wasn’t the right fit for me, and I was going to put off finding another as long as possible.
But, as a woman raising a little girl, I recognized that I won’t be completely rid of you for quite some time and that I need to set a positive example for my LO. She is too young to understand it all now, but I need time to reacquaint myself with your profession, in a more positive light, if I am to be that model for her. And so, I decided to suck it up, lock my feet in the stirrups and get it all over with… like a big girl!
Now, I was referred just over a year ago to another doctor, but he was inattentive, dismissive and downright rude so I didn't take his advice and I never returned either. Instead, upon some suggestions from friends, I booked an appointment at the same clinic but with a different doctor. One who, ironically, did her residency with my fertility doctor (Dr. D) and still practices IVF and such in another clinic.
First, the dreaded questions… When was your last appointment (too long ago), when was your last period (TMI), medical history, and so on. And then, the inevitable waiting game. Why can't doctors ever be on time, especially when I purposefully book their first appointment? Sigh. Waiting, in a sterile room with an ugly hospital gown; no music, no magazines, fluorescent lighting with an annoying buzz, thin strip of paper between my bits and the examining table where countless others have sat, exposed. And then, she arrived 32 minutes late! Not too bad, actually. We talked. I expressed my sensitivity due to past experiences, and she was very sympathetic. I explained why I was there, what I wanted, what I didn't want and everything in between. She listened and gave me choices. We discussed Dr. D. We discussed what I will do with our frozen embryos. We talked about possible future health risks. And, we discussed - my boobs. Yes, another thing I would like to take care of and everyone keeps telling me I'm too young for! No, not a boob job, a mammogram!
And you know what? She was pretty accommodating! Dare I say, she was actually kind of wonderful! In fact, she didn't even touch me (pap smear) as I will need to go back for a small procedure and she said rather than be invasive twice, she would just do everything at once. Fine by me!
When I was younger, I didn’t really care one way or the other, but this all changed when I was struggling to be heard and diagnosed with PCOS. The “professionals” all felt as though they knew my body better than I did, but they were wrong. After already successfully finding my own thyroid issues, I self-diagnosed my PCOS and I insisted on being tested. Finally, after more than a year of my body being invaded, someone (with a medical degree) finally agreed with me! Subsequently, I was poked, prodded and treated like a lab rat for the better part of a decade… and that was all BEFORE I even became pregnant! Another 9 months of humility, complicated with a high risk pregnancy, and I was more than happy to be rid of all of you as soon as my postpartum appointment was over with! In fact, I made up my mind then and there that I was never going back to my original gynecologist, as she clearly wasn’t the right fit for me, and I was going to put off finding another as long as possible.
But, as a woman raising a little girl, I recognized that I won’t be completely rid of you for quite some time and that I need to set a positive example for my LO. She is too young to understand it all now, but I need time to reacquaint myself with your profession, in a more positive light, if I am to be that model for her. And so, I decided to suck it up, lock my feet in the stirrups and get it all over with… like a big girl!
Now, I was referred just over a year ago to another doctor, but he was inattentive, dismissive and downright rude so I didn't take his advice and I never returned either. Instead, upon some suggestions from friends, I booked an appointment at the same clinic but with a different doctor. One who, ironically, did her residency with my fertility doctor (Dr. D) and still practices IVF and such in another clinic.
First, the dreaded questions… When was your last appointment (too long ago), when was your last period (TMI), medical history, and so on. And then, the inevitable waiting game. Why can't doctors ever be on time, especially when I purposefully book their first appointment? Sigh. Waiting, in a sterile room with an ugly hospital gown; no music, no magazines, fluorescent lighting with an annoying buzz, thin strip of paper between my bits and the examining table where countless others have sat, exposed. And then, she arrived 32 minutes late! Not too bad, actually. We talked. I expressed my sensitivity due to past experiences, and she was very sympathetic. I explained why I was there, what I wanted, what I didn't want and everything in between. She listened and gave me choices. We discussed Dr. D. We discussed what I will do with our frozen embryos. We talked about possible future health risks. And, we discussed - my boobs. Yes, another thing I would like to take care of and everyone keeps telling me I'm too young for! No, not a boob job, a mammogram!
And you know what? She was pretty accommodating! Dare I say, she was actually kind of wonderful! In fact, she didn't even touch me (pap smear) as I will need to go back for a small procedure and she said rather than be invasive twice, she would just do everything at once. Fine by me!
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