Wednesday, February 7, 2007

girls talk

Busy busy little bee I’ve been lately, but no worries for I am happy to report that I’m in a particularly whinging mood today, and since there is a shockingly debilitating amount of work to be done, here goes my rampantly avoidant fingers! Huzzah!

For a little while now, I’ve been distractingly looking for an obi/gyn (operating word being ‘distractingly’) but having never gone to one before and being a fully grown 24-year-old lass (do I need to reaffirm my Queen Procrastinator crown?), I am understandably growing a certain discomfort at such an idea as I surely do not wish to turn into those ladies with a tumour the size of Dom Deluise sitting on my hips before the authorities have to carry me out through my bedroom window and find myself on TLC (especially since I am cultivating the possibility of getting me one of them "sex partner"). So today, I gathered all the critical researching abilities my pedantic acculturation have offered me thus far and googled up all the info I needed. Yes, Google folks, my undying love to yous. But that is where the love stops.

Seriously, had I known it was such a feat to find a decent gynecologist I would have agreed to let my mum check on me, give me her Hot/Cold-Oh-God-My-Daughter-Is-Not-A-Virgin-Anymore diagnosis and Eat-More-Soup-&-Vegetables-To-Cleanse-You-You-Dirty-Whore prescription*. Okay, not really. But that’s only bc she has the reputation of being The Crazy Woman (as clearly confirmed above) and I’m not too keen on dying yet. After finding some very useful sites, it sadly however pointed me towards directions where the specialists were either unavailable, disappearing into maternity without warning or re-referring her patients, great but not taking new patients, taking patients but only interested in obstetrics, or taking patients but are "cold" "condescending" "money-hungry bitches". Excellent! How I suddenly felt so warmly supported by those who understand women’s need to accessible healthcare! Ggnnnn-arrghh Grrr.

Maybe is it that we have a crap healthcare system here in Canada? Or just in Quebec? Are all the qualified, kind and accessible doctors gone to Timbuktu or something? I mean, I’m fine that they are in Timbuktu, actually I feel pretty great about it - it’ll be fantastic that good doctors are where there are very much needed - but shitty hell, can there please be enough to go around for us all? There’s this consensus that specialised physicians here in Quebec are well underpaid compared to say their colleagues south the border, or even in other provinces. Countless times have I met students from outside Quebec who are here bc the University tuition is ridiculously lower than where they live (even under International Students fees), and who, once have sucked out all the blood got their degree, run away where the salary is that much more appealing. Boo! Hiss! Yes, but - though I am whole-heartedly abiding to the idea that qualified medical care should not be a matter of money AND available for all – how are we supposed to offer such services – no! – rights unless the government can actually attract these greedy whoring pansies specialists with something more than a virtuous idealised vision for them to stay in the first place? And need I mention the deplorably chaotic environment & insane hours these folks we’re counting on for saving our lives work in around here? I wouldn’t trust my laptop to someone who hasn’t slept in 24 hours and gets to practice their skills once in a blue moon while leaving computers discarded all over the floor, let alone my glorious punani, would you? Seriously, if I was one of them, I’d fucking run away too! Yes, I’m blaming the government, people! It’s the bloody government I am blindly pointing my finger at for being unable to spread my legs and have a good woman uncomfortably probe me! Really, is that too much to ask?!

After five hours – FIVE. HOURS. – of searching, calling, sneering (one fucking receptionist laughed at me when I asked her if the doctor is taking new patients! LAUGHED! Am going to stalk her down and cut her!) and rejection, I pulled out my last card – calling my sister’s gynecologist. I don’t know, isn’t it weird to have the same obi/gyn as one's sister’s? Isn’t it like a little incestuous somehow? To have the same person touch us both…there?

*tries desperately to shoo mental image*
*whimpers & runs away*

I called anyway. A recording of a lady who seemed to think that everyone who dials in must be either dull or doesn’t have anything else to do, contemptuously gree…ted…me…by…tal…king…like…this. It took her TEN MINUTES to finish telling me where the goddamn clinic was! Then, cut to sleep-inducing music for another five minutes. And cut back to her telling me how…an…nu…al…con…sul…ta…tion…is…a…non…pri…o…rity. Cut back to Bang My Head On My Desk Music, then dring!, followed by me being so elated I can do back flips to “….o…ur…cli…nic…is…si…tu…a…ted…in….” FACKIU! Forty-seven minutes & thirty-six seconds later, I was FINALLY able to speak to a real person, who informed me that my sis’ gyno is “probably” not taking new patients [OF COURSE NOT!] and if she does, she’s only interested in obstetrics [BECAUSE SINGLE CHILDLESS WHORES ARE NOT WORTH IT!] and besides, the earliest they can take me is in May [BECAUSE YOU DESERVE TO DIE NOW YOU SELFISH SLUT!].

Ugh. I finally resolved (because I don’t have that much hair left to pull out) for an appointment with a resident doctor in March - which isn’t that bad, i know. But yes, just a little rez for me. I’m too beat-up to care at the moment. They just better pray that this paranoid hypochondriac won’t die from some crazy sex monkey disease** until then, or I will raise back from the dead to haunt every one I spoke to. Especially that sneering receptionist (sleep with one eye open, bitch).

*takes a deep breath*

Well, that was therapeutical. Too much information? Well, too bad, here’s another one.

Yes, you read correctly. I am thinking of taking myself a sex partner. Some might call it a ‘lover’ but there’s something ominously old-world about that word that conjures images of consumption, opium and/or jumping over the train tracks for me, which despite the notes of glamorous romanticism, is not exactly what I am aiming at. Others, being more au courant I suppose, might refer this as a ‘fuckfriend’. Now, I don’t want to appear semantically anal but a fuckfriend to me implies that you fuck before being friends - nothing than a booty call, or a last call - and although it is all well & nice, a ‘quick’ & ‘easy’ shag isn’t quite what I am looking for either. I want a sex partner. Someone with whom I have a very adult arrangement that includes mutual respect, warm company, good conversation and your frequent sexual tryst, of course. A partnership, yes? But without the obligations & attachment usually implied in your regular romantic relationships. In other words, I want all the ‘good’ parts of a having a boyfriend and none of that ‘bad’ stuff. (I am a greedy lazy bum who wants to have her double-chocolate with mocha & vanilla swirl cake and eat it too. Hello!) But it sounds very mature to me, very adult. It’s clear, and clean, and honest. There’s no beating around the bush, no playing games, and that’s what I want. Because if I have to go through one more of those first encounters, flirting, get-to-know-each other conversational bullshit I think I am going to chew my left arm off and spit it back on their face before kung-fu kicking myself senseless - not quite the image i like to give off. Not the first time anyway. This way, everything is already on the table, and therefore should be easier, no?

Seriously, the more I think about it, the more it sounds reasonable, sensical, logical. And feasible… as I just might have the perfect candidate for the position too… The only thing left to do (aside from not dying from consumption before March) is to get over my prudish reservations and ask him already. And down an entire bottle of vodka.

Oh, stay tuned folks for my impending Most Embarrassing Moments!...

* Don't ask. It's an Asian thing...
** Not that i have had any intimate acquaintances with any monkey. Ever. Crazy or otherwise. Just so you know....


superstar said...

life just good

Boo said...

As usual, the quality of posts here fucking crazy and fabulous.

Gynaecologists: I have the same doc as BOTH MY PARENTS. She is however a sweetheart, and uses warm instruments. I reckon just ask around on this one. Apparently 1st year interns a no-no. I know at least 2 doctors who have described the hell of learning how to inspect places where the sun don't shine. Ouch.

Sex partners: sounds good IN THEORY vv! Just saying!! Conduct your experiments and report back to the waiting world!!

vapidly vibrant said...

So i've been told... but i am determined to prove otherwise!(and thanks for the encouragement :))
As for the doc thing, ugh. I figure i'll try this one out, since it is closer in time, and see later. I'll make sure to gob some tequila in first. You know, as anesthesia.