About 18 months ago I was ready to leave the house for my annual gynecological exam, when the phone rang. For the first time ever, the office was calling to reschedule my appointment. My immediate thought was – “Yay, that gives me time to lose some weight.” Really – that is the first thing that went through my mind.
Fast forward three months to the day before my new appointment; the phone rings. Again, they need to reschedule. Again, I was glad. Because I had not lost any weight yet and was not looking forward to having my doctor see me as I was.
Three months later my appointment finally happens. Do you think I was any thinner? Do three pounds count? And I could have kicked myself for not spending the past six months losing weight. Six months for me could have made a significant difference.
Do we ever feel as vulnerable as we do with our legs in stirrups and our private parts no longer private? How happy was I that my doctor never discussed my weight last year! And surprised, since she seems to cover general health issues at each visit. (Are you taking vitamins? Exercising? Getting enough calcium? Watching your cholesterol?)
Let me just say digress to say that I really, really like my gyno. I started seeing her over 17 years ago when I was pregnant with my second child. She has a wonderful bedside manner. She starts each visit with personalized chit chat instead of rushing to exam my… well… you know. I suspect she take notes about my life because every year she asks about my kids and seems to remember details from past discussions. She makes an otherwise unpleasant experience as pleasant as possible. I like talking with her, but not enough to have a conversation about my weight and diet. It is enough that we get into comparing our respective gyms and workouts.
Yesterday I went back for my annual exam. Legs and underarms freshly shaven. Wearing socks without holes. Embarrassed about the strong powder scent of my new (accidentally purchased) deodorant but hoping it would mask the sweat that always accompanies my nerves during the minutes leading up to the exam. Ready to expose myself in the way that women hate to be exposed. I’d take a mammogram over this any time! But this year I was not worried about my weight. Yes, I still have some to lose; but thanks to my efforts last year (after my previous visit) and my last 6 weeks on plan, I was down enough to no longer worry that she’d comment about my weight. And she didn’t. But we did have a nice chat about skiing in Colorado and shared our complaints about the health insurance industry:) Just the same, I am glad to have that appointment done with for another year.
Now don’t get me started on doctor office scales. That’s a topic for another day.