PDI WipesI played a new game today.

It’s called “Waiting For My Gynecologist.”

Kind of like “I Spy” but different.

I played it while I was waiting for my gynecologist.


I was sitting there, on that white paper covered table, for what seemed to be an interminable amount of time. Undressed down to my birthday suit. Wrapped up like a bland Hanukkah present in thin white tissue paper.

I had the paper sheet draped around my legs, my abdomen and my butt. The opening of the paper bed jacket was in the front, as instructed. But I always try to pull it tight and then tuck it in to the lower sheet, covering up as much as possible. I also take care to make sure my ass crack is covered otherwise it’ll be the first thing my gynecologist sees when he opens the examining room door.

So there I sat. Ready or not. Checking my watch and wondering how long it would take for this to be over.

And then I started playing the game. The rule is that you have to complete whatever it is you’re doing, a task such as counting the number of speculums in a drawer or a thought like figuring out how many boxes of Christmas lights it would take to light up the backyard, before the doctor walks in.

Here are some of the tasks I completed:

I crossed and uncrossed my ankles until I reached a count of 60. (Worked up a little sweat. Not a good thing before an internal exam.)

I let my mind hear the refrain of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” a dozen times.

I pushed back all of the cuticles on my fingers.

I counted how many balconies, on the condo across the way from the office, had furniture on them. (For the record, 5 out of 20 did. One-quarter.)

Which then got me to thinking, really hoping, that even though I could see them, they couldn’t see me. (Please let there be tint.)

I read all of the signs around the room. And was happy to note that today was the day they did their wipe-down of this particular room. With PDI Super Sani-Cloth Germicidal Disposable Wipes. And that it was Dawn who did it. (Thanks Dawn. Hope you don’t have the flu.)

A good 20 minutes had passed and I thought about getting up to retrieve my phone from my purse but I knew that once I got off the table and left my bare butt hanging in the breeze, my doctor would come in.

So, I started making faces at myself in the reflection of the computer screen that was hung on the wall. Tongue out, eyebrows up. Crinkled nose, one eye closed. Ten times each.

And then I started thinking that if I had to wait much longer, I’d have to pee again. Or else a little might leak out when he pushed down on my bladder. Luckily, I had a clean bowel movement this morning (thanks steel-cut oatmeal) so I wasn’t concerned about my rectal exam.

The Christmas song in my head was getting a little old so I changed it to One Direction’s “All These Little Things.” (My daughter is a HUGE fan.) This stanza was especially relevant:

I know you’ve never loved
The crinkles by your eyes when you smile
You’ve never loved
Your stomach or your thighs
The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine

Stomach, thighs and dimples. As in cellulite.

Perfect thing to think about while I’m butt-naked, sitting on a table, waiting for my doctor to come in and give me a pelvic exam.

As I was humming the song, the door flew open and my doctor walked in.

Game over.