Will It Grow Teeth?

Guest author – “Virginia”

The only thing worse than going to the OBGYN in a small town is going to the DMV for an updated drivers license photo only to realize that their camera points down at a 45 degree angle, displaying every chin you have for the future amusement of law enforcement. I say this because small town offices are way worse than your typical metropolitan flair and I am about to prove to you why…. 

I’m a laid back, chill girl when it comes to the lady doctor. Sure, I despise needles and am no fan of the duck bill but I can push through using well placed flippancy. What started as an ordinary checkup turned quickly for the worst. I sat in the waiting room, surrounded by nascent gestation and screaming toddlers until I was brought back to meet with my normal PA, Nikki. In 6th grade, Nikki was my frog dissection partner and we have known each other pretty well ever since. Our friendship banter is rock solid and while she was indeed the better frog slayer, we’ve always had fun career competition. In a town of 13,000 people it is absolutely impossible to not know everyone in it so regardless of any level of confidentiality, everyone knows everyone’s business and we just accept it as commonplace. To the scale we go, our verbal exchanges and deep cuts are what you would expect of two old friends, she tells me I’m chubby and getting shorter by the year, I return fire on her grey roots and mom jeans. Inside the office, we go through my favorite routine… 

Nikki: “Any drug use?”

Me: “Wait, there are free drugs?”

Nikki: “Alcohol use.. wait I don’t know why I’m even asking that…”

Me: “Only if you buy me dinner first” 

Nikki: “Christ you aren’t pregnant are you?”

Me: “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to tell me?” 

Nikki: “Any particular things I should know about or you want me to look at?”

Well, um… here it goes: I think I have a crotch zit. I loudly and inappropriately laugh and professional as she is, she misses no beat as I continue to describe it. While it hasn’t been bothering me I know its like, um, there and I would rather it not grow teeth and at some point and attack my sexual partner or pull a Little Shop of Horrors “Feed Me Seymour” routine because I just don’t have time for that. I assume the position, knees to the ears and its at that point she says: 

Nikki: “I have a student wanting to observe is that ok?” 

(Exceptional timing Nikki, I can’t wait to meet them like this)

Me: “Hey I’m all about education long she isn’t one of my many first cousins” 

The student enters, this poor sucker is about to get an intro to crotch zits she probably didn’t want. In addition to this, I’ve been traveling and swamped I haven’t exactly had time to fashion the hedge if you will so its basically 1974 down there. Nikki begins her prodding and the student actually looks interested. 

Nikki: “This is a vulvar cyst” 

Me: “You absolutely just made that up?.. “Will it grow teeth?” 

Nikki: “No dude, no teeth – I can remove it if you want, shouldn’t be a big deal”

Me: “Hey whatever long as I can go back to work you do whatever it is you do down there…wait can I see your recent credentials?”

Nikki: “Wasn’t my SAT score higher?

Ouch. Might need some aloe for that burn. 

Nikki isn’t one for details, she knows I’m in there to get the job done and go back to my life. She goes into the hallway and brings in a syringe and another “helper.” She briefly explains she’s going to “numb the area” (fuck, needle) and “excise” the area (cut bitch, you’re going to cut it out). It’s at this point the inappropriate humor and cursing kicks in. There is alcohol swabbing, followed by some cream and a needle – this is now officially worse than going to the DMV.

Me: “Fuck…. What the… Fuckity fuck fuck – is it too late for sedation” (nervous laughter)

My knees are violently shaking between the attempt at laugher and the pure nervous trepidation. She knows I’m a puss but needles and scalpels near my happy clam were never in the picture before. We’re charting new territory only Nikki is the only one that geared up for the bear fight. Before she even cuts, I’m essentially having a lower body seizure on her table with a combination of nervous laughter and tears. She goes into the hall and grabs another “helper.” 

Now it’s a party. 

Two very strong women are holding my legs still while the student is in the corner pretending to observe but probably changing majors. The woman on my right recognizes me as a local wedding photographer and starts an attempt to distract me with questions about a past wedding she was at. She’s failing at diversion because no one cares about so and so’s wedding dress from last year when there is a knife to my party place. Nikki makes the first cut to drain the cyst. 

Me: “Holy mother…. fuck… geezus… is there blood? Did I just give birth? WTF is happening down there” 

My legs are violently shaking, I’ve broken out in pure sweat and I’m repeating over and over to myself “don’t pee, don’t pee.” I’ve cracked enough jokes at this point that both Helga’s holding my legs are laughing too. Nikki maintains tactical operational control and finishes within a few seconds. 

Nikki: “All finished, now” 

Me: “I hate you so much right now”

Nikki: “You’re such a sissy, don’t ever have children if you think this was bad, ok?” 

Me: “I’m removing you from my Christmas card circulation” 

The helpers leave my shaking legs to myself as I watch Nikki clean up the crime scene. She helps me collect myself and gives me post instructions – indicating I can go right back to work and everything will be fine. I dress, leave the office, go to my car and sit down – slowly. I called my mother. 

Me: “Mom, my vag just went through an ordeal, like, do I go to work? Do I file a complaint? Why couldn’t I have been a boy?

She coaxes me off my ledge and I return to work. I waddled for the rest of the day attempting to avoid eye contact from my fellow humans. The entire OBGYN office that day knew of my performance and to this day I swear I still get funny looks when I walk through. Today, I look back on this story and laugh and I can now talk about this with other women. I find even my closest girl friends don’t feel supported to talk about their challenges (serious or not) due to shame or what society says is “proper conversation”. I love the concept of this forum- to bring awareness and provide a trusted resource for vagina holders everywhere. We need forums for open, honest, and raw conversation about what we go through and how to help one another. Thank you Healthy Hooha for providing this platform for us all to learn. 

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