Two stories about why my day ended in tears..

WARNING: If you have a penis, or are uncomfortable with gynecological items, you may want to skip the first story and scroll down to story number two.


STORY #1 - "Don't be a snob!"

This morning (after taking a bath in the sink with microwaved water - they turned off our gas so they can install the new boiler) I went for my annual gynecological exam. I loved my doctor in New Jersey but now that I live in Brooklyn and no longer have a car, I thought I had better find a doctor in the city. Finding a female doctor that is covered by our insurance, in close proximity to my job turned out be a challenge. I tried getting referrals from other women I know but none were covered by my crappy sub-par insurance. I have been searching for a gynecologist in the city for weeks now and after hours of calls made and extended periods of being put on hold by various answering services, I finally found someone!!! I called last week and was able to make an appointment for today - excellent. The office was in an older building - big deal, so is my neuro's office and he is fantastic. Up the elevator I went. The actual office was a disaster. It was old and dirty looking, the curtains were so old what once had been white lace had turned a bright yellow. There were ugly drapes.. yes .. drapes shielding the exam rooms from view. " So what? " I thought " Don't be a snob. Maybe the doctor is just very thrifty!" Finally it was my turn. The nurse was super nice and pleasant as she led me into the exam room. "OMG.... Don't be a snob! Don't be a snob! Don't be a snob!" There was Duck tape on the exam table holding the decayed cover together. She was so nice that I focused on her pleasantries and tried to imagine just how amazing this thrifty doctor was going to be. Then the nurse left the room and I was alone. I looked around. Dirty brown carpet. A random Coke can on some odd looking desk thing. Dust encased plastic flowers on top of some sort of glass book case...no sink in the room. Hmm. Wonder how she washes her hands. Don't be a snob, Sarah!!!! Get over yourself. She is probably just older and doesn't see the need for a fancy schmancy office like you are used too. Medical supplies were haphazardly thrown here and there. Still.. what do I know about codes and what a doctor's office has to look like ? My eyes wondered to my left, to the large metal trash can next to the exam table. Looks clean enough. Then I saw it. I small pea green bucket on the floor between the table on which I sat, and the trash can. It looked old, and wet at the bottom. I figured maybe the patient before me was pregnant and perhaps it was there just in case she got sick - maybe she did get sick in it and they had just rinsed and sterilized it and it just hadn't dried yet. Yeah, that must be it. Tap. Tap. Here comes my fabulous doctor ready to reveal her fantastic gynecological knowledge to me. You can all see where this is headed but you can't imagine my horror when a rough looking woman in a stained white lab coat came into the room and stood without introducing herself. "Alright! Let's get to it!" She gave me the fastest breast exam I have ever had... then announced that it was time to put my heels in the stirrups. My this time I had figured out that I was not being a snob.. This place and this doctor were a complete horror show and I should have made up an excuse and run out of there that very second!!!! I think I was in shock because instead of running for my life, I obediently put my heels up. I could hear her rummaging around in the drawer of the table for the speculum. I took a deep breath and tried to relax but before I could exhale I felt that icy metal being jabbed home. No KY in sight. Uncomfortable is a very mild way to describe my feelings at that moment. Seconds later she had her sample and I heard the instrument hit the floor. That's right, she physically threw it after she was finished. I laid there in disbelief, wondering if I had wandered onto the set of some sort of made for television movie where the heroin is a teenage mom trying to make it in the back alleys of NYC. Nope. This was all sickeningly real. I struggled to sit up as the "doctor" rambled on and on about how she had always wanted to live in Alaska and grow flowers and stay indoors. Finally she left me to get dressed and that is when I noticed that she had not thrown the speculum onto the floor but instead had tossed it into that lovely green bucket next the trash can. Fighting nausea, I pulled on my clothes and paid my bill as cheerfully as possible. It was all so surreal that I couldn't even cry about it I just walked to work recounting the incident to Stephen over the phone repeating "Oh my god.. oh.. my.. god.. " over and over. The final blow came when I got to work and there was a message on my voicemail from the lovely doctor's office on Columbus Circle that I have been trying to get in touch with for weeks and weeks.......I made an appointment for a consultation in January.


STORY #2 - "911, what is your emergency?"

I trudged home tonight looking forward to going straight to bed. They completed the installation of the new boiler today so when I walked in the radiator by the front door was hissing and spitting. I walked upstairs to my apartment and when I opened the door I was greeted by the overwhelming smell of natural gas and a sharp hissing sound (no our radiator has never hissed in the kitchen). I panicked. I grabbed Oliver and ran downstairs to Matt and Lonna's but no one was home. Then I just went outside. I had Oli under one arm (no time for a leash) and was still clutching my mail in my other hand while I groped for my cell phone and debated whether or not I should call 911. I decided to call. What if it was actually gas and the building blew up?!? I debated whether or not to cross to the other side of the street. After giving my address and concerns to the fire department operator I called Stephen in tears. He was out to eat with his aunt Linda tonight and did he best to reassure me as I stood trembling on the sidewalk with my dog under my arm. The firetrucks arrived within moments.. 3 of them. The men lumbered out of the truck and went to work making sure the building was safe, commenting to each other on the fact that they were at this building only a week ago for an overheated boiler.. Once again.. you readers out there probably know the end of this story.. it was not natural gas that I smelled but simply the smell of a new boiler being broken in. It smelled a hell of a lot like natural gas to this girl. I could not keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks as, red faced, I thanked the fire chief and all his men for coming over. They assured me that they had checked everything and there was no natural gas or CO in the building and that I had done the right thing to call them and to please call them again if I needed to. Mortified, I locked the deadbolt behind them and climbed the stairs sobbing out loud. I came up to my apartment and cried it all out and now I feel much better.

Now, exhausted and emotionally drained from my exciting day I am going to get some ice cream and cuddle up with Stephen and Oliver.

xoxo