Page 2 of Daddy to Go

I bit the inside of my cheek and clutched my bag in front of me, wobbling back and forth, my eyes darting around. They went back to the woman behind the counter and for the first time I actually noticed what she looked like. She was tall, slim, and beautiful, with long silky blonde hair. I tugged on my sweater a bit, now feeling huge and bulky.

“It’s really okay,” I offered. “I can just reschedule for a later date.”

The secretary narrowed her eyes at the computer screen for a moment.

“Actually, you don’t need to do that at all. I have a spot open with Dr. Rivington instead. It’s only ten minutes from now. And trust me, he is awesome at what he does, puts you right at ease, and can have you in and out of here in a jiffy.”

My hands instantly white knuckled again, this time on the straps of my purse. I wanted to say no, especially when she had described the doctor as a “he.” I wanted to be seen by a woman. I had never had any man look at my parts before, much less seen me fully nude. My first pap smear was not really where I wanted to start.

But there I stood, staring at the beautiful blonde lady with the perfect white toothed smile. It was intimidating. So, instead of turning her down, I found myself slowly nodding my head, unsure of how my face actually looked in that moment.

It didn’t really matter. I was going to have to get the appointment done at some point or another. I could put it off but in reality, there was no good reason to wait. It was hard for me to get time off work, and I really couldn’t afford to take another day for another appointment. So I let my head continue to nod as the woman chirped and pulled my file.

“Did you fill out the new patient forms?” she asked.

I continued to nod, pulling them from my bag and handing them through the window. I also gave her my insurance and my license and stood in disbelief as she ran them through the copier and handed them back over to me. I went from barely wanting to come in to having an appointment with a male doctor. Oh god. It was going to be awful.

But the receptionist didn’t know.

“Alrighty,” she said cheerfully. “Meet me at the door over there and we’ll get your vitals and take you on back. It was just lucky we had a cancellation.”

I forced a smile, one that I knew did not actually look genuine. Turning, I walked toward the door. With each step I felt like I was making my way down Death Row. My knuckles were still white while one hand clutched my bag and the other my paperwork, now crumpled. Just as I stepped up, there was a click and the door opened, the same lady holding it as I walked through.

“Come on right over here to my office and I’ll get your stats,” she said walking in front of me.

We went into a small room with a couple of pictures on the wall, a height measure, and a scale. She grabbed one of the blood pressure machines from outside the room and wheeled it in, wrapping the cuff around my arm. Then, she stuck a thermometer in my mouth and stood there, waiting for the machine to show its readings.

“Your temp’s slightly up because it looks like you are a little nervous,” she soothed. “But everything’s normal. No need to be nervous, I promise you. The doctor is very gentle and always makes sure to cover all questions from his patients.”

I nodded as she took the cuff off and held her hand to the scale. I stepped up but closed my eyes, not wanting to see the final number. I haven’t owned a scale in years, and didn’t plan on ruining my entire day with those stats. She could probably tell I wasn’t fond of it, as she didn’t repeat my weight out loud to me.

“Okay, I have all your information on the sheets,” she cheerfully said walking to the office door. “Let’s head back to your exam room and get you all set up.”

I followed her back, clutching my purse to my chest, glancing at the nurse’s station. There were four young nurses, all stick figures, typing, writing notes on files, and taking care of their normal workload. No one looked up at me but I couldn’t help but feel like everyone was staring. It was all in my head, as it usually was, but it didn’t help the nerves that were coursing through me as I made my way back to the exam room.

Ugh. Now we were at the place where it would all go down. The place where I would be checked, poked and prodded from head to toe. Suddenly I was glad that I had taken so much time to meticulously manicure my lady bits the night before. Three hours had seemed excessive but now I was thinking maybe four would have been better, given that I was about to be seen by a guy.

“Right in here,” the nurse said, smiling as she allowed me to walk past her.

Inside the exam room was a pleather exam table covered by a long sheet of white paper and stirrups folded back at the ends. I sat my purse down on the chair hesitantly and turned around, tapping my hands on my sides. The nurse reached into the cabinet and pulled out a hospital gown and thin white sheet.

“Please be sure to take everything off, even your panties and bra. Put on the gown, and this sheet is to cover up with if you feel cold,” she instructed, handing me the items. “Just have a seat on the table and the doctor will be in shortly!”

I nodded nervously, turning in a circle to watch as she left, closing the door behind her. I set the gown down on the table and began to undress, feeling slightly uncomfortable taking my clothes off in a strange room when anyone could walk in. Nonetheless, I did it, knowing there was no turning back at this point.

Folding my clothes, I sat them on the chair neatly and pulled the gown on. It was pink and made of crinkly paper with two small ties that barely held it shut. Thinking ahead, I tied them in simple bows, not wanting the awkwardness of having the doctor fidget with knots. There were no mirrors in the room but looking down at myself I could tell that it was bad.

After all, the thing barely covered me and definitely did nothing to flatter my curves and DD breasts. They were almost bursting from the thin paper covering. They were so huge that I didn’t even want to think about forty-year-old me with boobs down to my waist. Maybe I would consider plastic surgery at that point.

Plus, there was nothing in the world that could disguise my sassy hips and I was just going to have to deal with that. I am who I am and I could cry about it in a strange cold room, or get my ass up on the table and move on with my day. I was just hoping that this doctor wasn’t ninety years old with coke bottle glasses, white hair, and a judgmental stare like my regular physician.

Carefully I stepped onto the metal stool and turned, smoothing the gown underneath me as I sat. The paper crackled noisily and my eyes fell on the cold steel of the stirrups on the sides. Immediately I felt like a farm animal in for an exam. I bit my lip and put my hands in my lap, reading over the picture of the reproductive system on the back of the room door.

You can do this Abby. It’ll be over before you know it. Just hang tight.

But who was this Dr. Rivington? A knock sounded and my heart pitter-pattered with nervousness.

“Come,” I managed in a semi-normal voice.