I had an encounter with a speculum-wielding doctor last Monday, who called loudly across the waiting room to the nurse, enquiring if she had any KY in her room, as he was completely out. Joy.

I went in complaining of ongoing problems post partum: I struggle to hold onto a full-ish bladder; coughing, laughing, sneezing and toddler-wrangling have all caused me minor accidents. My perineum feels all wrong still after the stitching repair job necessitated by a fast-emerging head, and now splits into a tiny tear at the drop of a hat knicker. What is more, whenever I lumber up into a jog at the gym, I get the distinct sensation that everything is…dropping. Dropping out. The word we are searching for here is, in fact, prolapse. The problem seems worse at some times of the month than others. In short, I’ve known for a while I should go and see the GP, but… busy, you know?

The appointment was with a young locum GP, so I was fully prepared to have to explain uterine didelphys, as unless docs have done a lengthy obs&gynae rotation, they’ve generally never come across it. Predictably, he’d never heard of it, although he did grasp the concept quickly without me actually having to draw him pictures. I draw a good didelphys picture. I’ve had practice.

I described the problems I was experiencing, and was half-expecting him to simply refer me straight on to my former gynae chap at Warwick. Instead, he squared his shoulders and thought he’d better have a butchers at my cervi, although I’m really not sure what he was expecting to see. He summoned a chaperone, to whom I chatted whilst he busied himself with gloves and struggled mightily to liberate the speculum from its sterile wrapper. I was beginning to cast alarmed glances at his fumbling, as the last thing you want is a speculum-driver who hasn’t done it for a long time.

He was down there for absolutely ages, and I think he was starting to sweat under the glare of the anglepoise lamp he was directing into my innards, before looking up to enquire if ‘people generally have trouble seeing the second cervix?’ I took pity on him and told him yes, even though they are sat bang next to each other, and are allegedly fairly blatant, as it occurred to me that Harry’s emergence could have changed the lie of the land, so to speak.

He eventually straightened up, having achieved nothing except subjecting my specially-depilated undercarriage to mild angle-poise scorching. He said he would refer me to a gynae. Any gynae. Apparently, our glorious NHS now permits me to pick and choose which one I see.

So that’s nice.


17 Responses

  1. Whereas I have enough distance to quite enjoy the excitement vicariously. Oh dear.

  2. It does all seem rather like an episode of Mistresses. Your poor Pal. I think I am in the take the woman for half of whatever she has got camp – he is best shot of her even if he loves her still.

    Sorry about the gynae issues – similar happened to a friend – a good gynae and a load of physio saw her right.

  3. Wow! That was worth every minute. Lots of men sneaking around it seems. Either to look at wives or cervi, not sure which is more interesting. I do hope Pal was alright after the adrenalin had left him. I also hope you are able to find some comfort after your post-partum problems. I too feel sometimes like the undercarriage is about to drop off and allow all of my insides a quick escape. It’s a terrible feeling and somehow indescribable unless you’ve experienced it yourself.

  4. I love the chavvy comment and I would agree if the whole story didn’t involve night vision goggles and a lens cap which had me in hysterics. I do believe this is the basis of a new sitcom and should be written immediately! Especially with the “Americans” coming this summer!

  5. Gosh, that Kiwi wife. Kinda hope your friend takes her for all she’s worth in divorce court someday. I’m a little unclear on why he’s surveilling her various shaggings, unless he needs to gather evidence for court? Perhaps he is just someone who likes to pour salt in his own wounds – in which case cool, ’cause me too. And Hubby is a trooper for standing by him.

    I hope the underbits begin to feel better soon. Here I offer assvice about Pilates, as if you’ve got time for that. They kinda helped my peeing-when-laughing situation, though. Okay, now I shut up and go wash dishes.

  6. The Americans are coming! The Americans are coming! If that doesn’t rearrange your undercarriage, what will? I hope it’s a good visit with low amounts of alcohol needed and applied on all sides.

    I don’t know what to say about pal and his wife. So sad and yet a little bit hilarious from this side of the computer. Poor guy. Good for him for nailing the adulterer in the chops though! Well done there.


  7. I hope Pal can find some peace – it is a bit stalker-ish to be hanging around the house at night. I hope he really is just gathering evidence, instead of working himself up into a huge mental state from which he will never recover. This strikes a chord with me today. A guy I dated for 8 years (and dumped almost 10 years ago) has been sending me messages on any social networking site where he can find my name -today it was Facebook. I only dated him for 8 years because I knew he’d be a stalker, and I kept putting off the moment of truth (otherwise known as the restraining order). So, for Pal, divorce evidence good…anything else bad.

    I guess adding some KY to your purse might be a good idea at this point – for the days when the doctor runs low. Then he won’t have to shout across the office, and, as an added bonus, he can spend the rest of the appointment wondering what kind of pervert carries KY around all the time!

  8. I have to say that I hate gynae exams. I am a woman, and ahve a fairly good idea of what I shall find, but the variation in size, length, capacitance an so on is boggling….


  9. Oh dear. The Pal’s malarking would be funny if it wasn’t so wretchedly un-funny. I do wish people would honour those marriage vows or just not make the damn things. No-one forces you up the aisle in a white frock.

    They are game, these young doctors, aren’t they? (“Oooh, gunshot trauma….” was the dreamy reaction of one young surgeon of my acquaintance on hearing that someone else planned a stint in South Africa). It was very good of you to let him take a look. Bless.


  10. Having been married to an adulterous bastard in my time, I really feel for Pal. However, even if he has proof that his wife is shagging this guy now, it doesn’t prove that she was doing so before they broke up. Really, who she shags at this stage is totally her own business. He would want to be careful with the stalking or it could all go against him in the long run.

    Sorry to hear about the gynae situation. My sister had similar problems after giving birth to her third baby, and ended up having minor surgery. It seems to have sorted it out, so no problems running around after toddlers now.

  11. This is BETTER than Mistresses, and very little is better than that fine TV experience.

    I can’t help but think Pal has the wrong end of the stick on this. So she’s cheating. So what? It’s not like in a divorce situation that makes a fig of difference, unless they had some kind of pre-nup or something.

    And having a junior driver for a speculum? My vagina just slammed shut.

  12. Blimey. But, alas, this only proves Kiwi Bint is screwing the punchee NOW, and not that she was screwing him THEN, so it’s all not much use to anyone and very hard on poor Pal, who is no doubt tormenting himself with it and feeling wretched.

    I shall be back agog for further installments though.

    Very noble of you to let the young chap have a peek at your fascinating innards. Very educational for him, I hope, expecially stuff like ‘check where the KY is before you start’, which is a good motto for life in general, I feel.

    Good luck with the Murkans With Luggage.

  13. May: We prefer “Merkins,” so as to take full advantage of all available entrendres (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merkin).

    Wish I had what to contribute, but I’m just so glad to have had the password and could read something like this. Rather than, of course, living it myself.

  14. if it is any consolation, i have had two nurses on two separate occasions rummaging around (and *twisting the speculum) to find my cervix, and apparently i’m perfectly ‘normal’ (if there is such a thing). AND there was not even a suggestion of the possibility of lube. a quick run of the speculum under the hot tap is the height of luxury over here.

  15. […] seems I was being optimistic. Pal came round last night to show us both the finishing touches to his new tattoo (surprisingly […]

  16. […] him and hauled Harry into the Dr’s office – the same Doctor, incidentally, that struggled to find cervix number 2, and eventually gave up in […]

  17. […] but this will be the first time someone has looked – I am discounting my young googling locum GP’s vain attempts  – at my cervi since about 2 hours before Harry emerged from one of them, and I have gone a bit […]

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