This Post is Rated TMI

That's Too Much Information for those of you who aren't on the up and up regarding online acronyms.
So.
Last chance to turn back now.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

So today I had my annual physical. 
And by annual I mean once every five years.
I have new insurance (woohooo honey!) and a new doctor and so I scheduled this appointment two weeks ago and asked for the works.

Below is an unedited and innacurate transcript of what transpired between the doctor and myself.  Also, some tips, free of charge, for your next visit to the M.D.

I entered the office and was asked to give a urine sample.  I did so happily until I remembered that I ate asparagus for lunch. 

Tip #1.  Do NOT under any circumstances, eat asparagus on the day of your physical exam.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, google asparagus side effects.  Not. Pretty.

Before the nurse weighed me I took off my shoes (hey, every ounce counts) and then she measured my height.  At the tender age of 32 I learned that I am 5'5 1/2" and not the 5'7" I have erroneously written on every application I've ever filled out.  I'm afraid if the government catches wind of it, they'll revoke my passport citing fraudulent activity and then how in the world will I ever visit North Dakota?  So I questioned the nurse, who proceeded to give a loud sigh and assure me that I was in fact that short and that she understood why I was upset since it meant that I am even more obese than I previously thought and then she slapped the blood pressure cuff on my arm and set the machine to "tourniquet" while I watched the blood drain from my limb.

Okay, everything after the sigh (fine, she didn't even sigh, she just sort of inhaled) was an embellisment.  But she did put the cuff on too tight and it made my arm hurt really, really, bad.

I changed into my standard issue tissue square and waited for the doctor to come in.  This is an awkward time in the appointment.  You have nothing but a door between you and the rest of the world and if a swift moving wind happens upon the waiting room and the gust forces the door wide open....hey.  It could happen.  And the result would be similar to driving by a really bad car accident.  People know they shouldn't, they know it will probably ruin the rest of their day and haunt them at night, but they just have to look.  And the minute they do, they regret it forever and the image is permanently seared into the part of their brain that only gets accessed during the middle of Sunday mass or while volunteering at the senior center.

While checking on my girly parts the doctor mentioned to hang in there, that she was almost done.  I nonchalantly asked her if she had already started.  She laughed her ass off, telling me she was glad she wasn't the only one who, after having birthed a couple of kids, felt the same way.  I pretended I meant it as a joke.

Tip #2.  Small talk during a pelvic exam is overrated.  And really, how much can your doctor hear from.........over there.  So sit still and shut up.  You can eat the shame away in the privacy of your bathroom later.

There is breast tissue in your armpits.  What that tells me is that my boobs are bigger than I previously thought and also prone to severe sweating and unsightly stubble.  Okay.  Maybe I won't mention this piece of news to my husband after all.

All in all, it was a mildly tolerable experience, if you don't count the fact that after going over my current medical and psychological history my new doctor blurted out that I was "weird" (this is, honest to God, true) but I choose to believe that by weird she meant "interesting enough to write a bestselling book that will make others laugh, cry, and fall to their knees in gratitude that their lives are nothing like the one they just read about."

So there it is.

I still don't know why I felt the need to divulge such personal and disturbing information, but hey, what good's a blog if you don't lunge across the room and abuse it once in a while.

I hope we can still be friends.