My fiancée was due for her lady part inspection and was unnerved by the fact that she had to see a male gynecologist. It’s interesting, women are uncomfortable being accosted by male doctors whereas men who see women doctors are more… shy. We’re afraid our female doctor touching our decidedly male parts will cause a bit of embarrassment.
My fiancée asked me to go with her to her appointment. Okay, like, drive her there and wait for her in the waiting room? No, go with her to her appointment, as in, be there in the room.
It was with surprise and little understanding that my fiancée would be uncomfortable being inspected by a male doctor. In hindsight, I can completely understand why that might be awkward for a girl. But really, it’s strictly a medical visit that numerous women experience regularly. What’s the big deal? Here’s where a free lesson in relationships occurs.
Now I don’t have to say why this is one of the most uncomfortable requests a girl can make of her partner, but as an introvert, it’s duly awkward. After many looks of laser-eyed, “you’ll be sorry” looks, I relented. I would join her in the exam room as the doctor poked around downtown.
I was sort of in panic mode the entire drive to the doctor’s office. Was I supposed to stand on the side of the doctor, to make sure he didn’t try anything funny? Or, was I just supposed to be next to my fiancée and hold her hand while exerting my alpha-male dominance over the situation?
I did what any self-respecting introvert would do: I brought a book to read.
As soon as we entered the waiting room, I was reading. As my fiancée’s name was called, I stood up and followed her lead, through the door, down the hallway, next to the scale, all well keeping focus on the black ink on the white page. As we sat down in the exam room, and before, during, and after the doctor was there, I kept reading.
Mind you, I wasn’t really getting much reading done. This was all just a ruse to avoid having to deal with the situation at hand. I just wanted it to be over. I only hope no one noticed if my book was upside down or something — I certainly wouldn’t have.
All of this was for naught–for both of us. She ended up not needing an inspection because her records showed she had one a year ago and the reigns are loosening on pap smear frequency. Or something. Nothing I need to know. Well, except for next time.