What's Worse?

I think I may have mentioned a time or two that I believe our family is complete. We have two healthy girls, and in order for ME to remain mentally healthy, two girls is how it will remain.

Now if I'd had to deliver my girls by way of a c-section, I would have done the 'ole tube tying right after Megan's arrival. But since I was able to have them the other way, and since my husband has an aversion to sharp instruments down yonder ... I've had to keep babies at bay by consuming birth control pills. Taking these pills really doesn't bother me. What does bother me is the annual exam I have to endure in order to get the prescription for these pills renewed!

Okay, this might be a good time for you readers of the male persuasion to sign off. Especially those of you that I either attend church with or work with. It's not that I plan on this post being all that graphic, but I am about to share some moments from the last exam I had with my doctor (whom I have dubbed the Russian Rapist.) If you choose to read on, that's fine ... just do us both a favor and refrain from talking to me about it okay? Thanks.

Before getting to the main event, I should back up and tell you that in October I went to my doctor to have her check my blood pressure. I'd been to a new dentist recently and they took my blood pressure there, and it was high (not too surprising since I was at the DENTIST, but still.) Anyway, she confirmed that it was high and that because I was SO YOUNG (thankyouverymuch) she wanted me to do some serious diet and exercise, rather than treat it with medication (NOthankyouverymuch.)

I did what she told me to do (30 minutes of exercise everyday + healthy eating) and within a month my blood pressure was where it was supposed to be. So needless to say I've felt pretty good about my accomplishment in this area.

That was 2 months ago. Since then I have continued with the exercise, but since Christmas, I've had a little trouble getting back to the 100% healthy eating part. But hey, I'm still exercising, right? Right! Yay me!!

Well, today was my exam with the Russian Rapist (RR.) I call her that because:

1) She's Russian (for the slower readers out there.)

2) She's Aggressive (not the best combo for an exam such as this.)

After having to undress in an extremely cold examination room in the dead of winter, I then got to wait 40 minutes for my torture session in one of those hideous "gowns". (And why do they call them gowns? Gowns are supposed to be glamorous, and there is nothing glamorous about these!)

When she finally marched in, she began with the questions ...

RR: Do yous has any questions before I begin?

Me: No. I just need my birth control refilled.

RR: Ah yes, zee birth control. Okay. Done.

Me: Thank you.

RR (while taking my blood pressure): You exercise?

Me (all proud and happy): Yes I do! 30 minutes everyday!

RR: What you do for dose tirty minutes?

Me (even more proud and more happy): The elliptical!

RR: Alright. Dat ees good for cardio. Now to maintain you weight, you do total 60 minutes everyday. If you want to lose weight, you do total 90 minutes everyday.

Me (not so proud or happy): Whoa, whoa, whoa. 30 minutes isn't enough now?!

RR: Tirty minutes is okay for CARDIO. But to maintain weight, you must do 60 minutes. And if you want to lose weight, do you? Do you want to lose weight?

Me: Well sure.

RR: Okay den, you must do 90 minutes everyday.

Me: I'm gonna' have to get up at like 3:30 in the morning to do that!

RR: No, no, no. You do at night.

Me: I don't want to do ANYTHING at night. Especially exercise for 90 minutes!

RR: You eat healthy, no?

Me: Well, I WAS eating healthy until Christmas. Then not as much since then.

RR (apparently done with the small talk): Okay lie back and scoot to dee end of dee table.

Me: Ugh.

RR (while conducting the exam with one hand, she grabbed my stomach with her other hand!): Okay, so you want to geet rid of some of dees, no?

Oh my word! Did she really just grab my belly?! Who does that? Is this a Russian thing? Why do I keep coming back to this crazy woman?

Me: Uh, yeah?

RR (laughing all Russian-ish): Den you better geet you butt on dat elliptical for 90 minutes!

Me: Right.

It was right about then that she took a stool sample. Yeah. TOOK a sample. I wasn't even given the option to GIVE a sample. Oh no, she TAKES it. Last year she informed me, "You forty now. I geet stool sample." Lovely.

Once that's done, I feel this false sense of relief, like the exam is over. I know better, but it's how I cope.

RR: Okay. You seet up now. I check you breasts.

Does the fun NEVER END?!

RR: Okay. Lets see you cholesterol results. Ah, yes. You Christmas eating is showing. It ees up from last year.

Me: sigh

RR (handing me a pamphlet on cholesterol): So you eat better now, yes?

Me: Yes?

RR (smiling like she knows I've hated every minute spent with her): Alright Tamara, I see you in a year.

Me (all depressed like): Yep. See you in a year.

Why do I always walk away from these exams feeling so violated? Is all this really necessary? (don't answer that) And for what? (don't answer that either) A measly prescription to keep me from having more children? I honestly don't know what's worse ... the annual invasion without even a dinner or movie beforehand, or one more kid to suck any and all remaining energy out of me. Hmmm.

A year it is.