Obstetrical Revenge

The previous post and the comments that followed brought to mind my favorite obstetrical revenge story, and I just couldn't resist posting it. Now, you're in luck since I'm not posting a picture with this one. I know, I know...I'm a real model of restraint.

Before I go on, I assure you that I will continue with the Rants by Request series after this small detour. I'll also say that if you menfolk (or ladies) aren't comfortable with some unvarnished vagina talk, you may want to find another way to spend the next five minutes. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Without further delay, I hereby present a special technique you ladies can use to make sure your gynecologist or obstetrician is giving you his or her complete attention at all times. I discovered this technique completely by accident, as I'm about to describe.

When I was pregnant with Tyler, I was still in the Army, and their policy is that when a pregnant soldier gets sick, she has to be seen by the obstetrician, no matter the nature of the illness. So about six months along, I came down with a fever and a brutal, violent cough, prompting me to waddle on into the OB's office.

I've never understood why, but the first part of my exam for my cough was a good old-fashioned-feet-in-the-stirrups pelvic exam. I was really less than thrilled, since I felt like death on a stick and didn't anticipate having to unlace my boots and take off my elastic-topped camouflage pants, but the Army was never big on giving me lots of choices, so I put on the crunchy paper gown and assumed the position.

In comes Dr. Peekupurcooter and the nurse whose whole job is to make sure the doctor doesn't try to strum your banjo, and the exam begins with the brandishing and insertion of an ice-cold speculum. As he's checking under the hood, so to speak, he's asking me about what brings me in today, how long I've had a fever, the usual questions, and I start to feel a coughing jag coming on that I just can't restrain.

Anyone care to guess what happens to a speculum that's stuck up your vajayjay when you're lying on your back with your legs spread and you cough violently? In case you haven't guessed, let me dispel the mystery: the damn thing shoots out of your nether regions like a rocket propelled grenade, right into the forehead of the guy who has his face inches from the launch site. And yes, it will leave a mark. Right on the forehead, exactly as you would have hoped.

Now, I'm not suggesting that you need to do this, but it certainly is very tempting when the doctor is condescending. Or if they don't validate your parking, right?