I try to be the most compassionate and selfless person I can be.
While dining with others, I never take the last slice of pizza. (Unless the people I’m with are overweight, in which case I’m actually doing them a favor.)
Also, whenever I go on a double date, I make sure to give both guys equal attention. Even if one guy is more attractive, I do my best not to roll my eyes and make gagging noises at the ugly one.
I credit my philanthropic nature to the time I spent in Girl Guides.
Since I also learned in Girl Guides that “Date number two means you’re ready to screw,” I see my gynecologist at least once every five years, whether I need to or not.
It was after my last appointment that my doctor called to tell me that my pap test results had come back abnormal.
“Does this have something to do with my questionable sexual past?” I asked.
She said it was possible, but it was also common for women my age to have abnormal pap smears. Just to be on the safe side, she was sending me in for a Colposcopy.
Because I am only gifted in fat gram content and street smarts, I had to Google what that was.
I could actually feel my cervix retracting into my stomach.
Devastated, I called my sister (who is also a nurse).
Me: (sobbing) You win.
Sister: Win what?
Me: Mom’s video card. It’s yours.
Sister: What video card?
Me: The one we fought over when we were calling dibs on our inheritance.
Sister: That place closed down, like, fifteen years ago.
Me: Well, keep it as a memento. I just found out that I’m probably dying.
Sister: Even if it was still in business, it’s not like I’d ever use it. I rent all my movies online.
Me: DID YOU NOT HEAR THE PART ABOUT ME ONLY HAVING SIX MONTHS TO LIVE?
Sister: So what is it this time? Did your baboon heart finally give out on you? Or is your Benjamin Button disease acting up again?
Me: Shut up. I’m being serious. I need to know what a Colposcopy is.
Sister: It’s when the doctor sticks a camera up your butt and looks around for problems. Why?
Sister: I know, gross, hey? Don’t you remember Uncle Pat was talking about it at Thanksgiving last year? He said he couldn’t wal–
Me: Wait…you’re talking about a colonoscopy. I SAID COL-POS-COPY.
Sister: What’s that?
Me: Well, seeing as my gynecologist booked the appointment, I’m guessing it has something to do with my vagina.
Sister: Oh. Never heard of it.
Me: Be honest. Are you really a nurse?
Sister: I’m in the psych ward. We don’t deal with that stuff.
Me: Thank God. Just imagine if they put you in the operating room. The patient would be getting his tonsils removed and you’d start prepping him for surgery by shaving his private parts.
Sister. Very funny. …Look, I gotta go. I’m meeting C for dinner.
Me: Dinner? It’s only one o’clock.
Sister: I need to get ready.
Me: It took you ten minutes to get ready for Grad.
Sister: (heavy sigh) You really don’t know how to take a hint, do you?
Me: That’s not what your mom said last night.
Sister: There are like, seven reasons why your comeback doesn’t make sense.
Me: Yes, but there are eleven reasons why it does make sense.
Sister: I seriously can’t believe we’re related.
Me: Well, we are. I’m your new step dad.
Sister: You’re a freak.
Me: Don’t talk to your papa that way.
Two months later, I was sitting on a chair in the examination room, legs pressed together and car keys poking out between the fingers of my fist. The nurse gave the usual pre-exam spiel. I looked for alternate escape routes.
Nurse: Ok, Rebecca, I’ll just need to see your health care card.
Me: (grabs purse, pretends to rifle through it) Uh, somebody must have stolen it.
Nurse: I’m going to need some identification.
Me: How about this? (hands over Costco card)
Nurse: (squints at card) This isn’t you.
Me: It’s my mom. But trust me, they never look that close. I just keep my head down and talk about boring things like scrapbooking and church and stuff.
Nurse: How about a Driver’s license?
Me: (grudgingly hands it over) Do you really get women coming in here pretending to be someone else just so they can get their ovaries scraped?
Nurse: (ignores question) I take it this is your first Colposcopy?
Me: Yes. I’m a virgin.
Nurse: Oh. So, there’s no chance you could be pregnant, then.
Me: Oh, no. What I meant to say is that I’m a virgin at having my ovaries scraped. OF COURSE I’m not a real virgin!
Nurse: So, is there a chance you might be pregnant?
Me: OH, HELL’S NO. (whispers) I haven’t had actual sex in like, forever.
Me: Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I haven’t had plenty of offers. (casually lifts up pant leg, pretends to scratch extremely toned calf muscle)
Nurse: (closes file)
Me: It’s not like I’ve turned into a total prude or anything.
Nurse: (hands over gown) Okay, now I just need you to take this and change behind the curtain over there.
Me: Not to brag, but in high school they called me “Backseat Becky”.
After changing into the gown, the nurse had me lay down on the examination table. She positioned my legs in the stirrups. I thought about the hobbling scene in “Misery”.
“Well, hello, Dr. So and so.” A troll-like man wearing scrubs shuffled in to the room.
I avoided eye-contact. He asked me if I had any questions. I silently wondered if the jar of tongue depressors would fit in my purse.
“Would you like me to turn it on for you?” The nurse pointed to a giant television screen that was mounted on the wall next to my head.
” Yes, please!” I said, relieved that I’d have something to distract me.
“No worries, Dear. I know how some women like to know exactly what’s being done “down there”.”
Confused, I looked up at the screen. That’s when I noticed a pair of familiar looking ankles, two inches from my face and magnified to approximately three thousand times their original size.
The doctor made a joke about the camera adding ten pounds. Then he lifted up my gown.
The last thing I remember is looking at the screen and thinking that if the black hole ever does come in contact with earth, at least I’ll know what to expect.