Thank goodness my dear, sweet Dr. Garwin does not go into detail about the logistics, so to speak, of pap smears.

Instead, she just has me hop up on this table and start talking about everything I can think of to talk about.  And I can think of a lot of things to talk about… while I pinch my finger when that whatever-it-is hurts for that hour few seconds.

Doc is why I don’t really mind going every year.  And, let’s see, I’ve been going for over ten years.  Right around thirteen.  Right about the time my life fell apart.

Good ol’ Dar decided I needed a pap test because it was time for hers and she had heard of this new doctor she wanted to try out… so she made appointments for both of us.  She’s like that.  And then told me what day and when.

The big day came all those years ago and off we went.  To meet the most awesome doctor ever.  With the most awesome nurse ever.

Dar went in first (of course) and then it was my turn.  When Doc turned and looked at me with that sweet smile and that sweet face and said, “How are you?” well, she just shouldn’t have asked like that.  She probably wishes she hadn’t asked at all.  I couldn’t tell through all the bawling and babbling, but I imagine she went from this:

to this:

Ever since that day, on a yearly basis, she and Sandy have been my tell-it-to gals.  They lived through all the problems and heartaches over the years.  And they’ve shared in my health problems, too.  Making them more endurable, more palatable to the psyche.

Oh, yeah, there were some moments when I had the hysterectomy.

That’s for tomorrow.