Gynos and Shock and Awe

This is going to be inappropriate. Consider yourself warned. Seriously.

Recently, I went to a "lady doctor," meaning, specializing in ladies. Although, she also happened to be a lady as well. The office has a no kids policy which I understand, inconvenient thought it is. The last thing you want in the exam room with you while "that" sort of thing is going on is a chatty four year old who is want to repeat such an event over Thanksgiving dinner. "Mommy, that turkey, it's legs and that stuffing and all, it looks like..." (insert your own comment)

So, anyway, I'm sitting in the exam room, completely clothed mind you for the far too curious ilk reading this, and I'm looking around at the decor. I've seen some ridiculous stuff through the years. The worst, and my favorite, by far was the poster of a cat one doctor had posted on the ceiling. The fluffy kitten was hanging from a branch. (It's an old poster. Probably wasn't considered animal abuse when it was made.) The caption read, "hang in there." Hang in there indeed. I assume the poster was for the patient but it might have been for the doctor. Although, if the doctor is looking up at it, I doubt they are terribly efficient. I'd think their job would be a bit like a professional archer in that keeping an eye on the target is key.

This exam room was professionally appointed. It had all the usual educational trappings. For the men out there, here's what seems to be required wall decor: a warning of sexually transmittable diseases (in English and Spanish), advertisement for HPV injection (that's a recent addition) and the old stand-by drawing of a Caucasian (always) female form cut straight down the middle with an intact baby (also Caucasian) in the process of being born. The baby's face is down and smooshed which, although I realize that's how it is, I don't want to see. If God wanted me to see the look of complete and utter humiliation and desconsolation on my baby's face as it emerged from my body, face down, toward my egress flue, I'd be able to see it without the aid of the "deviled egg lady" rendering. (She's cut in half and all the color is in the middle - like a deviled egg!)

This office, however, had another little gem and, I have to be honest, I didn't really know what it was at first. I looked at it, my eyes focusing on one or two of the eight - yes, eight, remember that, ok? - pictures and I tried to put words to it. And, I did. I won't tell you what they are although none are inappropriate in any way. But, once you find out what I was looking at, all the words I assigned become far too descriptive. It would be like me saying something looked like a bowl of mashed raspberries, which is innocuous enough, then me telling you I was looking at a head wound. Yeah, gross.

After a moment, I let my eye meander over the whole of the display and ladies and gentleman, I was looking at before and after pics of rejuvenation surgery for parts of a woman's body that are and always should be shrouded in mystery. It was like a cold slap to the face. My face twisted and my neck went back much like it does when I smell soured milk. I'm not saying I don't have sympathy for the ladies pictured, I have so, so, so very much sympathy for them. (Seriously - insert a moment of silence for those gals.) But, so help me, I need rejuvenation surgery on my face from the damage my expression made while looking at those pics. I didn't want to see that! And, I shouldn't have had to see that. Seriously, that poster should be under a curtain that you are given the option to move aside of your own volition. And, I totally would have...but still! I would be to blame for the images that are now burned into my mind like a horrific daguerreotype. 

Going to the lady doctor isn't the best experience. It's not something you wake up and look forward too while sipping a cup of coffee and trying to remember the last time you shaved your legs. It's something you do because it is healthy and necessary. And, over the years, I have learned a few things about myself, my...uh...construction. The "deviled egg" lady on the wall has taught me much. If I ever see her out and about, hopping down the street on her one leg, I will shake her hand (her one hand) and thank her for her contribution to society. But, I do not appreciate what I learned at my most recent visit. I am forever damaged and my brain looks a bit like those before pics for having seen them. 

Doctors out there, the shock and awe technique is not effective in advertising a service. It is off-putting and damaging to the psyche. How about instead a sign that reads, "Sitting on a wreck? There's help on deck!" Or, "Helping your business, is our business!" But, best perhaps is the simple announcement of said service. "We offer ___." Then beside that statement, "There are pictures under the table in a padlocked box. Here is the combination. It's ok. You can look. We can help. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's normal. Childbirth is as injurious as it is rewarding. We can't help with your child at this point, but we can help what they did to you with their freakishly huge head." And, in the box, along with the pictures, should be chocolate and antidepressants. And, whatever the Men in Black use to erase people's memory.