Every woman is told that upon reaching maturity, and becoming sexually active, it is imperative that she visit her OBGYN and have her pap smear done combined with a physical. I have decided that it is a bane to my existence for many reasons, and while I do put up with it, my recent experience was more traumatic than enlightening.
I was overdue by 2 mths for my yearly examination and decided to get it sorted while I was slightly free. Hopped on over for my appointment and went through all the preliminaries. I remember someone saying they take time out and do the necessary preparations before going to the doctor. I am in that boat. I prepped myself nicely. Got my pudenda trimmed low, my body cleansed nicely, cleaned off the bikini area etc. Prepped as if I was going to my own wedding. I don't understand that knack in me, but I detest smelling sour genitals, and if my OBGYN is going to be all up in there, might as well make it fresh enough while he is down there. Well I was in for a strong surprise.
A young lady walked into the room and smiled with me. She identified herself as a nurse and proceeded to ask many questions. I answered all cheerfully because I knew this was the best part of the entire examination. Then she proceeded to ask me to undress and get prepared for my pap. My heart sunk. The thought of a foreign object entering my pleasure trove and just sitting there offering solely discomfort did not sit well with me. When she re-entered, I was thrown for I knew the doctors tend to carry out the examination themselves, and I was not all too comfortable with missy touching me.
First up, the breast examination.
Trauma level one. As she made circular patterns around the breast area showing me how to do it, she voiced her shock at the lack of response from me. As she so candidly put it, "You're not aroused? Most women get aroused at this point and I can tell by their nipple response." How do I inform her there is nothing arousing about having your breast rumpled in a waxing motion as if on trial for the Next Karate Kid? How do I tell her there is no pleasure in having cold hands scour your breasts and the feeling of dread flowing along your legs knowing that your pudenda will be invaded by a weird object in hopes of finding that door to the womb and the irritation you will feel as the brush scrapes along the sides in hopes of gaining a few cells for testing? How should I put it across?
She then pulled out the stirrups and asked me to place my legs upon them. Dread overcame me as I readied my body for that feeling of discomfort that always comes with it. With a lamp leering at my woman's mound and that demon at the entrance, I felt my body relax to allow the simple short invasion, only to have her try three times of insertion in order to locate her true goal. She actually said she was stunned that I was not excreting fluids to accommodate the tool and that my self control is wonderful. If it was so wonderful, why did I want to bicycle kick her into the wall? After that task, she proceeded to lube up her fingers and insert them to "check" my walls. I doubt she checked as I felt assaulted more than discomforted with her fingers grazing my walls and thumb thumping against my blushing nub. Did I feel a moment of tittilation? No. It was disturbing and I found it a bit different in terms of method compared to the other one. *smh* What a way to turn off my day.
As I put my clothing on, I did not have that satisfying feeling of it being settled as I usually have. The emotion I felt was as though I was violated and there was some pleasure being taken in it. My chest rose and fell as my body steeled itself against an invasion and my mind reeled with common expletives to hurl at my inspector. It felt wrong. This moment of usage left me feeling as though I was a common trollop whose John had just outed himself within my walls and tossed me several pennies due to my inability to perform.
Needless to say that task is complete and I am now another year rested from having to go through what they say we must. Oh the joys of being a woman. *sigh*
