A Jumbo Dose of T.L.C.

Previous to my first trip to the gynecologist, I lived in the blissful ignorance that "stirrups" were things only associated with equestrians, and "duck lips" were simply the beaks of water foul. Oh, boy, was I mistaken.

There's nothing quite like the experience of your first pelvic exam: laying spread eagle on the exam table with a doctor poking and prodding inside you as though you were a dead animal on the side of the road. And all you can do is stare at their face framed between your knees and ask "doc... you done yet"?

My first experience was traumatic to say the least. No one warned me about how invaded I was going to feel, and I can remember balling the entire time I was driving home.

Given my first encounter with the wonderful world of gynecology, I was pretty reluctant to schedule another appointment, and waited two years, as opposed to the recommended one. But because it's important to get regularly tested for cervical cancer, I finally mustered up the courage to make a second appointment. At least this time I had the wherewithal to make it with a trained professional, and not just a doctor who owned a spare set of metal tongs.

Initially I was opposed to the idea of using Tufts services for my annual vaginal visit. Much in the same way we don't expect the university cafeteria to have good tasting food, I didn't expect university health services would be capable of giving good pelvic exams. But because in the end my laziness always wins, I decided to take the plunge, and test out the finest of what Heath Services had to offer. And I must say that I was very pleasantly surprised.

This time, I decided to prepare myself mentally for the exam. "OK, this is their job. It's not like I'm showing them something they haven't seen 100 times before. In an hour this will all be over, and the vision of my vagina will blur into the 30 others they've seen this week."

I walked into the exam internally repeating my pep talk, "this isn't weird, it's just another part of my body, this isn't weird, this isn't weird, this isn't..." And you know what? It wasn't.

The last thing I expected from my pelvic exam was for it to be enjoyable, but the nurse was so personable that not only was it not weird, but it was almost kinda fun. Her inquiry into my sexual history became a half hour conversation about my past relationships. She eased my nerves not only by launching me into a drawn out monologue about my views on sexuality, but also by explaining exactly what she was doing as she was doing it. "Touching your leg, touching your leg, touching your leg, ok, here we go," was much less abrupt than my previous experience of, "what did you say your name was again?" Bam. Metal object in vagina.

As impressed as I was with the nurse, I was equally as impressed by the utensils. The stirrups were covered in fabric, and the duck lips were plastic, and run under warm water before being inserted. This was a far cry from the cold metal ones used in my first pelvic exam.

After all the time and energy I spent stressing out over getting this exam, it turned out to be not so bad If you find a quality institution (and I would recommend Health Services) to perform your annual pelvic exam, it's really pretty tolerable. And hey, if your nurse is as good as mine, it can double for therapy.

So if it has been a year since your last exam, or if you've never had one, or hell, if you're just plain lonely and feel like your cervix is missing out on all the action, call 617-627-3350 and ask for Leslie. I assure you, you won't be disappointed.