Once I found out I was pregnant and they took the 8OOO pages of family history (apologies to my older brother - I HAD to let them know about the lobotomy), they also did a full gynecological exam including a pap smear (I know, too much information, but this is integral to the story). My exam came back as "suspicious cells" so I had to have a colposcopy. I'll spare you the complete details of THAT.

The day the Girl Friday (aka: $7/hour girl who works in the doctor's office) called to tell me about my "suspicious cells" I tried to get her to tell me what it meant over the phone, but instead I got a sing-songy "OH! The doctor will explain all of that to you when you come in for your colposcopy." I mean, there were so many questions like, What made the cells suspicious? Were they wearing a trench coat, fedora, and sunglasses at noon on a 92-degree summer day? (Because frankly, I'm ALWAYS suspicious of THAT). I couldn't get the Girl Friday to answer any of my questions - she kept repeating "suspicious cells" and "colposcopy" like it had some drooling Pavlovian effect every time someone asked a question. Maybe she was hitting the lever with her little paw and getting a treat each time? I have no idea. Thank goodness my background is in healthcare and I used to teach college anatomy and medical terminology courses. Therefore, I was armed with just enough information to make me dangerous and insane about my prognosis before I had the appointment. That was HELPFUL.

I tell my friend Jeanne about the "suspicious cells" and the "colposcopy" at which time she insists that they'll do a biopsy. Since a colposcopy is an exam where they use an instrument (colposcope) to magnify your cervix and vagina (*lalalalalalalala*), I assured her "...they were just going to take a look. They would've told me if they were going to do a biopsy with it, too." Famous last words.

Fast forward to the appointment:

I get to the appointment and I'm escorted on the walk of shame back to the room. The conversation goes something like this:

Clueless Nurse (CN): Did you take some Motrin?

ME: *confused* UH NO, no one told me to...

CN: *shock, awe & disbelief* YOU DIDN'T TAKE ANY MOTRIN?

ME: *total panic* NO! NO ONE TOLD ME TO!

CN: *sigh* Did you at least take Tylenol?!?

ME: *getting angry* NO

CN: Do you have any Tylenol in your purse?!?

ME: *hellooo? isn't this a doctor's office?!?* UH NO.

CN: *sigh* Should I get you some Tylenol?

ME: Well, I guess it depends on how painful this EXAM is going to be.

CN: *flips open my record* Is there any chance you could be pregnant?

ME: *complete disbelief* Uh, I think that was firmly established about 12 weeks ago.

CN: Ah yes, I see.

Fast forward to next week:

I call the office to verify something about the next appointment. The same Clueless Nurse answers the phone (I'm quite familiar with her voice by now). I can hear her pulling up my record on the computer as I give her the usual demographics.

ME: I wanted to verify something about my ultrasound next week.

CN: Is there a chance you could be pregnant?


Yep - no lie ('cos why would anything be easy for a 38-year old pregnant woman with "suspicious cells"?)


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