It doesn’t seem like I blog about anything positive, does it? I guess it is just easier for me. XD
A long time ago I made an appointment for the annual womanly exam. May I emphasis a long time ago? It was made around February for May since I it would necessary since someone at the clinic obviously cannot count. A little back history before this gets confusing. I have to go to the local health clinic since they help out students without insurance. They just so happened to help me out with birth control to help regulate my angry uterus during those lovely times of the month. For me, it just didn’t want to do its thing when it needed to. Unfortunate for me they were really weird about how they wanted to dispense them to me. But I finally went home with the 12 that I needed for the year, or so I thought.
So when it came time in February to make the appointment for June I wanted to make sure I had enough to not freak out before then. Good thing I did cause it turned out that I missing one. Ok, no big, I’ll just explain it to the person I do the appointment with. Easier said than done. Our conversation kinda when like this:
girl: “Good afternoon, how may I help you?”
me: “Hi, I need to make an appointment for a pap smear.”
girl: *scoff* “Can you please hold?”
me: “Uhh, sure.”
*silence for 7 minutes*
I hang up and try again.
Different lady: “Midlakes.”
me: “I’d like to make an appointment for a pap smear.”
lady: *scoff* “Please hold.”
*lots of rustling ensues*
*more rustling*
lady: *scoff* “Date of birth?”
I’m not kidding with the scoffing. I think every person there is trained to do that. The rest of the call consisted of me trying to explain to her why I couldn’t go in June because I needed to get a pack for June at that time. What part of I only have enough pill until the end of May is so hard to understand? Maybe if she hadn’t been so rude I wouldn’t be upset but the actual visit was worse.
This place is notorious for keeping people waiting for more than 2 hours, so I knew what to expect. I wasn’t worried about waiting for free anything. It wasn’t until almost 2 1/3 hours later when people were being called that came in after me that I started to get a little angry. When the nurse finally called my name she started yelling at me why I didn’t say anything to them. Yeah, cause it’s my fault the scoffing secretaries misplaced my file. She even said that they weren’t going to see me but that the doctor thought it would be ok since they made me wait that long.
So we sit in a little room for her to ask me a bunch of questions, some that I won’t repeat, and I mention that I had my period. The look on her face was priceless. She looked disgusted. You would think being a herself and working as the assistant to the only gyno there she would be a little more mature about it. She got to asking about my family history, like all the diabetes and stuff like that. I only know of my mothers side of the family and I know that only my grandparents have the listed on her sheet. She asks about my mother and father. Well I don’t know jack crap about my father and my mother passed when I was pretty young. So then she digs into the reason as to why she died. “Did she die of natural causes?” “Well, no, she died of a drug allergy.” So people would leave it at that, but she was insisting it was something else like heart failure or something. Come on lady, I was only 11. I only know what I was told. She asks about depression in my family, I told her my mother had it. “Well maybe that’s why she died” was her only response to that. It really took everything I had in me not to rip her throat out. The rest of my visit there was not pleasant after that.
I don’t know why I never said anything back to that old hag. I think all my efforts on not bursting out crying prevented me from doing so.
it honestly took another hour after that to have the gyno tell me we’d have to do it another day cause she didn’t have time and that I could start anything my little heart desired. Well I didn’t get a choice and have to start this scary looking thing that looks straight out of the 70’s. Hopefully my angry uterus will make my life a little bit happier.