I know it seems like all of my posts lately are about lady bits – mine or someone else’s. I think it’s just that once you notice something, you notice it a lot. Like when your friend gets a sliver Honda Element and suddenly every car you see is a silver Honda element. You know what I mean? Now you’ll think of lady bits every time you see silver Honda Elements.
Anyway. We moved here almost a year ago and took up residence in the Lowes Vanderbilt hotel, Husband, Tigger the Dog and me. We were there for three weeks while our house purchase got sorted out. Buying a foreclosure sucks. Not as much has having to foreclose I’m sure, but sucky just the same.
The view out our window for those three weeks was the top floor of the parking garage, part of a hospital and a dingy office building a block away. Today, I went in for my check up of my lady bits and this is the view out the window of the room I was in.
This is our hotel. The one we were living it for three weeks. THIS is what I saw from the gynecologist's exam room! Neat but kinda awkward, right?
Now, a few things I’d like to point out about this picture.
ONE: The fact that the blinds were up and I could see the hotel WHILE I was on the table is disturbing. It was a gynecologist’s office for goodness sake! I know it was the sixth floor and the windows are that reflective glass you can’t see through and I’d never seen one single lady bit while staring out the hotel window for three weeks but seriously? The stirrups were pointed right at the window!
TWO: The fact that I noticed the blinds were up and didn’t say anything, also very disturbing. I just couldn’t figure how to work it into the conversation while she was asking me if I was sexually active and before she asked me to disrobe from the waist down. And then after, when I was on the table with the sheet across my parts, I was too chicken to close the blinds because a) my bottom half was now disrobed and b) there was lots of lady bit inspection stuff on the windowsill. Inspection stuff I would almost certainly knock off and make unsterile just as she came back into the room to use it on me. And there's an image, me bent over, trying to pick up inspection stuff with my end pointed at the door that opens to the desk where all the nurses are gathered...
THREE: The fact that I didn’t say anything because I was too chicken and potentially -yet almost certainly- clumsy, and THEN thought; “Well, this will make a funny story…” means I’m certifiable.
I need help.
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me