I fidget, grumbling under my breath and trying to pull myself together. Just have to get through this and get my prescription refill. Then I’ll go home, have a glass or two of red wine, and try to forget this day even happened. I definitely won’t take a hot bath and think of Dr. Max and his strong, firm hands. Or the way he bosses me around, making me do things I don’t want to. I hear a throat clear and look up to find Dr. Max watching me shift on the table, his right eyebrow raised questioningly. “Did you remember? Were the questions too hard?” My arousal diminishes as my ire raises. “You’re very bossy and pushy, you know that? Would it hurt to be a little more polite? Yesterday. Maybe the day before, but I’m pretty sure yesterday. I go perfectly fine, regularly, with no issues. Thank you very much for asking.” I wrinkle my nose and sniff , tossing my head, mainly as an excuse to drop the intense eye contact.

“I would guess day before yesterday based on what I felt in my palpitations of your bowels. We’ll address that later in the exam. Now, tell me how does this feel?” Before I can start to fret about what he meant by address that later, he puts both hands on my lower abdomen, just above my mound and presses hard. He keeps up the pressure as he moves his hands around. I gasp and groan softly. “That’s very uncomfortable. I feel like I have to pee. You really need to stop or there’s going to be a mess.” After a minute he eases up and I sigh with relief. “I want you sit back up for a minute so I can check your kidneys.” He takes my hand and pulls me up before moving around to push on each side of my lower back. “Any pain?” I shake my head and then quickly remember to respond verbally before getting scolded. “Not pain, but it doesn’t feel great when you jam your fingers in there either.”

His touch leaves my back and his hand settles on my shoulder. “Ok, then, back down with you. I think your kidneys are ok, pending your urine analysis. I’m pleased to see you’re learning to follow my instructions as well. The nurse did get a urine sample when she did your initial intake, correct?” I catch myself shaking my head again, it’s an automatic response. “What instructions? And no, she didn’t. I was only here for a prescription, remember?” His hand on my shoulder starts to ease me back down. “You just followed them again. You caught your non-verbal response and replaced it with a verbal response. Or at least you added a verbal response. I only had to issue a minimal amount of correction, well done. Yes, it seems you are determined to keep me from overlooking the original nature of your visit today, even when it is no longer relevant Information. I’m glad I asked, I’ll have to make sure we get that sample before sending your samples to the lab.” I lay back, knowing what is coming next and dreading it.

He walks to the end of the table, near my feet, and starts to pull out and position the stirrups. “Since you’ve brought them up repeatedly, tell me about your headaches and medication. Might as well get that sorted before we move on to the more intense part of the exam.“ I gulp and squeeze my eyes closed. More intense? I really have to get my shit together and keep it that way. This can’t take too much longer, there are time limits on these things, right? After a deep breath I try to sum up my migraines. “For the last decade, I’ve had regular migraines immediately before my period starts. It usually coincides with the lovely cramps I told you about earlier. Every doctor has told me it’s hormonal, and will stop when I hit menopause or maybe if I were to get pregnant. They give my pills and tell me let them know if I need my prescriptions changed. The pain is always on the left side and accompanies sensitivity to light and sound. I get extremely nauseous and if I don’t medicate in time, will vomit until I collapse or get meds in me. It’s been awhile since I’ve ended up in the ER because I’m very careful to track my cycles and watch for the early signs. Between the combination of migraine meds and pain med for my cramps, if I’m lucky I usually pass out and sleep for the better part of 24-48 hours. I wake up groggy, often bleeding, but not miserable.”

He’s guided my feet into the stirrups almost without me noticing as I was wrapped up in my migraine spiel. His hands lightly touch my hips, urging me toward the end of the table and my head pops up. “I just need you to scoot down toward me. I’ll let you know when to stop.” My eyes open wide and my breathing picks up. Not knowing what else to do, I scoot. My heart and brain are both racing, competing for my attention. “Ok, that’s good. You can stop.” His hands leave my hips and he looks up at my face. “You ok? You look like you might pass out… this isn’t your first time is it?” He stands up and walks closer to where my head lies flat on the table. He reaches down and takes my wrist, feeling for my pulse. “You’re heart is racing, can you take a deep breath for me?” I realize I’ve been holding my breath and suck in a lungful of air. After a few more deep inhales, I shake my head. He scowls at me and I shake my head again, harder, trying to clear my racing thoughts. “I’m…ok. I’ll be fine. I can do this. No, not my first time, but it’s been awhile. I’m good now, I think. Really.” I blush realizing that it sounds like I’m talking about something other than a pelvic exam. Truth be told it’s been a long time since anyone has been down there for any reason. He’s moved over to the counter and is arranging stuff I can’t see on a towel covered tray. “You sound like you’re giving yourself a pep talk. This isn’t that big of a deal, you know? Oh right, you don’t because you’ve been skipping them for years. Don’t worry, after a few times, it won’t seem like any big thing. In fact, most of the time, it will probably be a much quicker and simpler process than this will be.” I frown, squeezing my eyes shut and willing the trepidation away. “That wasn’t actually helpful, assuming that’s what you were going for. In fact, it almost sounded like you were trying to upset and shame me.”

He turns from the counter, tray in hand and moves back to the end of the table. He sets his tray down on a cart and perches on the little wheeled stool. Now it’s his turn to scoot, and soon he's right between my spread feet, facing my tightly squeezed together knees. “It distracted you from your freak out though, didn’t it? I’m not sure how you think I can examine you like this,” he gestures toward my knees “but I’m going to need you to relax, especially your legs. Let your knees fall out to the sides.” I feel his hands on the inside of each thigh, just above my knees, easing them apart.