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I did not stick to the paper on the examination table.

Issue Date: Monday, Feb. 26, 2007

I? Have a new gynecologist.

How is that shit for an opening statement?

I have finally traded in Dr. Goatee for a real doctor. Not like I was going down to the Greyhound station, putting my feet in the stirrupy things that the shoe shine guy uses and asking him to take a look. I have just moved on from the guy I was referred to by my (HOT) Argentinean General Practitioner and I am very happy about it.

I have been seeing Dr. Goatee for about six years (seven? eight?) and I have never been quite comfortable with him. He looks like Freud and every time I see him he gives me the same “cover your ass” spiel about… “Can’t say it’s not cancer until we take out the lump in your breast and have the pathologist say it isn’t cancer.”

So, yeah, he wasn’t very comforting and that added to the whole sweaty, shaky, high blood pressure thing I had going on every time I would visit him for a well woman appointment or to go over the results of yet another mammogram he had ordered for me.

I figured that I would try to find someone that didn’t make me pucker with just the words, “Okay, you are going to feel a little pressure.”

So, I did. Well, not me really. This is another thing to thank Stacey for. I called her and asked, “Do you like your OBGYN?” When she started squeeing all over this guy, “I love him! Oh… My… God, he is the sweetest man and so nice.” So I figured it couldn’t hurt to give him a shot. So I scheduled myself an appointment and Mister and I went in last Wednesday.

He spoke to us in his office for about 15 to 20 minutes then gave me an exam in one of their posh-ly appointed examination rooms. Y’all? I did not shake, I did not have high blood pressure, I did not perspire… I did not stick to the paper on the examination table! It was a miracle.

I was just sticking with Dr. Goatee because he was in the same office complex as (HOT) Argentinean Doctor and I thought that I should have all of my Doctors aware of my [::ahem::] issues or at least be on the same page.

But you know what? I am so much more comfortable with this new Dr. He and I graduated from the same high school, he is a total smart ass (in a good way) and he makes me feel good about my choice. I felt all ashamed for changing doctors… but after being subjected to Doctor McScratchyPants I figured that I should have no qualms about my loyalty to a doctor who is going to be all up in my business for the rest of forever. Right? Right.

So? We love him. He and (HOT) Argentinean Doctor and the new Dermatologist guy (Dr. McG) will all take care of me and I will love them and send them cookies at Christmas.

More later as I am het up about something and can totally not talk about it here as I would get fired if someone from my job ever found this page.

(Good Lord. I just went a full week without someone at my office asking about Galen. The first one who asked – just now 3:54 p.m. on 2/26/07 – , shrieked when I told her, put her hand on her hip and said, “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself!?” “Well, no, actually I am not… but if it makes you feel better to try and guilt me into tears about it…” Gah.)


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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