Dr. C spent a grand total of 3 hours, between two appointments checking out my under carriage. I have never been more grateful that a woman was that attentive to that part of my body. The cyst wasn't particularly huge, but it made minor things like sitting, standing, and walking very uncomfortable.
But there she was with more shots of local anesthetic than I had ever seen in my life. There she was with a scalpel and blue latex gloves covered in my blood. For situations like these, I wish doctors' offices taped classic literature to the ceiling, preferably written by James Joyce, so I could fall asleep. And still, through those very uncomfortable and frustrating hours for the both of us, we got each other to laugh, quite a bit actually.
There's something about the relationship you form with someone that's with you through a circle of your hell. It's the gratitude that comes with being able to commiserate with them so full heartedly.
At my appointment today. Dr. C had me put my feet in the stirrups again just to check to make sure everything was healing normally. A this point I can look at her face while she's checking things because we've beyond exceeded social graces.
As she leaves, she shakes my hand and says,
"Well Jessica, it's been a pleasure spending so much time with your vagina!"
"You wouldn't be the first person to say that to me," I reply, "though definitely not as eloquently."
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