It’s an OB/GYN Christmas

 

Seen on Facebook.  Per Awkward Family photos:

“My mother is a gynecologist and also into Christmas crafts.”

All I can say is this is one craft idea that probably won’t make it to Pinterest. And yes, those reindeer are made out of what you think they are.

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And the strangest search to find my blog so far in 2014 is….

are you ready kids?

I wasn’t.

Did you know if you search for “Gynecologist Jokes” on Google, you will find my blog?

Seriously?

98% of my stories are about life after kids, gardening, faith, poetry and travel.

I do not write sex jokes –

okay, there was that one.

Or maybe two..

Still.

Granted, I did have a bit of a weird meltdown after my hysterectomy in 2010 and had to see a male gyno for the first time ever in my life. And yes it’s true I wrote several jokes about that which included the promoting of sedation gynecology and if you hear a comic in Tulsa tell that joke other than me — they stole it.

Just sayin;.

Deep cleansing breath.

And yes, it’s true that I did write a poem about my annual exam.

Still, it’s been at least two years since I wrote a good gynecologist joke. I honestly don’t have one. At least not any that I can tell without turning purple. So why I show up on the search is beyond me. The only reason I know this is because my blog gets hit at least two or three times a week by people looking for a good GYN joke and I did a google test to find out why.

Good heavens.

Of all the SEO search engines in the world, I had to wind up on this one.

So… in that spirit, for all ya’ll looking for a good joke, I offer this new one that I found…

22-true-meaning-of-gynecologistHave a great day!

Friday Funny: Why I need stunt doubles, or at least roofies (PG-13)

Things you never want to hear your gynecologist say:

“We’ll just hook up some tiny electrodes and…”

Let’s face it, there is no good way to end that sentence.

And he wonders why I ask for stunt doubles and roofies.

Turns out, he has “ethical issues” with both.

Electrocuting me until I pee however, is perfectly fine.

Go figure.

Sadist.

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For the Hyperbole Impaired: I’m having multi-tasking “issues” and doc wanted to look at a solution and run tests. When asked to describe the test all he said was “We are going to hook up some electrodes and basically make your bladder misbehave” I’m not a nurse or a medical technician, there was no way I was going to know that did not mean “electrocute you until you pee.”

By Popular Request: I’d Rather Have a Root Canal

I have given up all hope of convincing people I really am sane.

I have two stories requested the most, Fisher’s Of Men, and this one.

And I wonder why people think I’m neurotic.

I would rather have a root canal than go to the gynecologist:

  1. I get to keep my clothes on.
  2. I can watch TV
  3. The dentist has better drugs.

Not that I don’t like my doctors I do. I just don’t like being there. I am a social bug, yes. A social bug who likes to stay fully dressed. I’d rather host one huge barbecue in my back yard, have them all come over, serve beer and brats and call it good until next year.

I realize I should put on my big girl panties and deal with it, and I would if they let me keep them on, but they don’t. Let’s face it, we will burn our bras in public, let our bra straps show in the summer, even throw our panties on stage at a rock concert, but the minute we undress in the doctor’s office we hide our underwear. Why? Because we want to keep that Victoria a secret, that’s why.

I do not know a living soul who wakes up and says “oh boy I get to go for my Pap Smear (or colonoscopy or mammogram) today. Hurray!” No one in their right mind thinks that. To make matters worse, I am a redhead and I blush when people say hello, add naked to the equation and I look like I fell asleep in a tanning bed. Even if the doctor are brilliant, the office is clean and efficient and the staff is super nice, we’d still rather be elsewhere.  This is the one place where wham-bam-thank you ma’am could be deemed acceptable. Unless of course something is wrong and we wish to dialog. Then we want them to listen and take their time.

Some doctors like  to converse during exams.  It’s their way of gauging our emotional state as well as trying to put us at ease; only it doesn’t work does it? Whilst I am normally fond of warm, intelligent conversation, their conversational style can seriously mess with my dis-associative groove. I’d rather close my eyes and run my to do list through my brain than make eye contact while pretending I can follow our conversation.

And yet, we talk. Or rather they talk. I ramble incessantly about God knows what. My neurosis factor increases exponentially with the realization that well… I am at my gynecologists office. My brain is so deep in denial that when they ask which doctor I am seeing, I can never remember his name.

To call me an introvert would be a kindness.

To be expected to carry on a full conversation with a doctor, complete with eye contact, while sitting naked on a table, holding my gown closed with my hands, needs more Valium than their office is willing to provide. Personally, I am all for sedation gynecology.  Knock me out and wake me when it’s over.  It’s not like it’s a new thing my dentist offers sedation dentistry, it could happen.

Left without the comfort of clothing, or drugs, I grab the only shield I can reach – my gift of sarcasm.

  • You want to screen me for colon cancer? – That’s gonna cost you a roofie.
  • When was my last breast exam? Last year. I always fail those even though I cram all year for them.
  • Every day I gather up the twins and cram them into a wonder bra.
  • Raising teenagers feels like I’m walking a high wire, I need all the support I can get.
  • Do you know why they call them wonder bras? Because without it we spend our day wondering where our breasts went.
  • I know where mine went, they are hiding in my arm pits, they don’t want to be here either.

They’ve added a new trick to their trade by the way — a two for one deal really, you can now get checked for cervical cancer and colon cancer all in one visit. REALLY? Now I know why my dogs hate going to the vet.

Not only are the new tests rude, some doctors talk  more during our exams than our husbands do during sex. Why can’t they all be Woody Allen?

Some days going to the doctor is more than a girl can handle. Granted after dealing with me, I’m pretty sure it’s my doctors who need Valium.

Have a great week everyone and remember you are amazing! Nobody can take that away from you.