this is a very interesting story about my vagina

I forgot to post this a couple weeks ago! I had a very exciting visit to the gynecologist! My cooter is doing great, thanks, and I created the following lovely record of my visit, while I was waiting for an hour and a half (while the person in the next room sobbed loudly – it was awful). Ian says he can’t read my handwriting in this sketch book so maybe I will translate or maybe you should become better readers, huh?

So first I got to wait a half hour in the waiting room. There was a TV there tuned to “the OB/GYN Network.” What, you don’t get the OB/GYN Network?? Ask your local cable provider today!

There were ads all over the waiting room (and also, later, all over the exam room, too) for Botox and Restalyne and spider-vein removal and stuff. I do not support that.

Ugh.

Other reasons the women with the oddly misshapen muzzles in this pamphlet give: “To loose these wrinkles…and my inhibitions!” (she sez as she is riding an electric bull, because that is reasonable) and “To look good…even in fluorescent lighting!” (which is probably my least favorite of all, and I don’t know why).

“I risked my life to have a second baby because I’m a fucking idiot” was an actual story on the OB/GYN Network about a lady who, like, quit chemo to have a baby after her first baby gave her cancer or something, and then she probably died twice, I don’t know, I didn’t watch it.

Anyway, after a while I got to move to the other little room, where I waited clothed for another twenty minutes or so, while I heard my doctor softly speaking to the person next door who was sobbing hysterically.

More plastic surgery posters inside the little room, but I don’t know what exactly they were for. This is, I swear, an accurate depiction of one of them:

Staring at the wall, slowly going mad from the wait:

And then they take away all of my clothes!! So for a long time I sit still, thinking that this must be over soon. But instead I wait for another 45 minutes. I study the disgusting colorful hairless plasticy anatomical charts closely. Why are they there? Hopefully the doctors do not need them, and presumably the patients do not want them. And yet there that headless, limbless torso lies, spreading her legs for me, showing me her blank little anus.

I somehow neglected to get a photo of this poster, so I was looking for a copy of a similar one online and I found HORRIBLE THINGS instead. Dear lord, please whatever you do, take my advice and do not google image search for anatomical vaginas!* Lest you find this:

THEY KEEP IT IN A BOX.

Also, Wordpress doesn’t think that “vaginas” is a word. Wordpress also apparently doesn’t think that “Wordpress” is a word. Anyway. Where was I? Oh right. The doctor has left me to rot and wander naked through a room filled with small sharp brushes that are about to go into my nether places:

That’s lube and a science kit. That’s not right.

I feel confident in bragging about the fact that I did not have any “vesticules” that needed to be “unroofed,” but maybe the left side of this spine-curling sign may have applied? I’m not entirely sure what an “ectocervix” is, but all I could do was stare at those two pokey kitchen-ass-looking implements and imagine which one was the “spatula” and which one was the “device” and what would happen if one of them accidentally got “over-rotated.”

*Aw, who the hell am I kidding? I’m going to show you all those pictures, anyway.

Which is scarier? Disembodied Head Pelvis Monster?

Or the skeleton version thereof?

Or WHATEVER THE FUCKING HELL THIS ABOMINATION UNTO THE LORD IS???

Moral of the story: Boys should have to get anti-baby pills, too. It sucks.