The Dreaded P-- S----

This morning, I had my annual OBGYN appointment.

My mom said NOT to blog about this.

But I must. For women everywhere.

Because something awesome happened there today, and I must share!

Don't worry, Mum (and women everywhere)- I am not going to get all weird and TMI.

Anyway.

I am super vigilant about seeing my OB each spring as I am a crazy anxious individual who fears she is always dying.

These annual visits bring me some solace as I figure my doctor will be able to tell me if I am at least blatantly dying.

The whole appointment though often seems like one miserable event after another.

Let me tell you this- it is never anything like The Mindy Project.

via

First, you must arrive fifteen minute early to fill out all of that boring paperwork. No, I'm not having trouble sleeping. Yes, I am abnormally anxious.

Nothing has ever changed.

After you've been waiting for about 20-25 minutes, the door will gently open and a nurse will call, "Insert your name here?"

Dum dum dum.

Your time has come.

You are then forced to step on a scale and will cringe as the nurse moves that pesky little bar farther and farther to capture just how plump you've grown.

If she's super sadistic, she will feel the need to say the number out loud.

This face? Exactly.

The nurse will then take your blood pressure and chat about your medical history as you contemplate never eating another Rolo or morsel of food for the next three months, that number from the scale still haunting your thoughts.

And here we arrive at the second worst part of the appointment. The dreaded paper gown.

Have fun sitting on a cold, examination table in a paper gown for the next fifteen minutes. If you're especially lucky, there will be a nearby mirror so you can admire how glamorous you look at this exact moment.

Okay. I'm done being snarky.

Back to present day appointment.

My least favorite part is THE important part of the appointment...the dreaded...

I'm so immature. I cannot even type it on my blog.

Can we just call it the PS?

Thanks.

I am a baby, and I think the PS hurts.

As I was tensing up and preparing myself for what was ahead this morning, my doctor smiled, "ACOG* passed new guidelines this past fall. Women in your age group now only need to get p-- s------ every three years so since you just had a perfectly healthy one last year, you won't need one today."

I gasped, "What? Really? That's FANTASTIC!"

Because it really and truly is fantastic news for any women out there who dread the annual PS as much as I do.

So...Mom, I am very sorry for blogging about this today, but I just had to pass along the good news.

Three years! Hurrah!

*The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists