Each spring, along with flooding and allergies, I get to enjoy a Trip to My Gynecologist! I recently edured this annual event and have vowed to never go again. Here’s why:

#1 The Awkward Hoo-Ha Examination: After I’ve stripped down to nothing and wrapped myself in a generic blue sheet, my doctor decides to make small talk while examining my nether-regions. I can only see the top of her head and I can’t imagine what SHE’S looking at. Between questions about my children, job and vacation plans, she probes, alien-like into my (heretofore) private area.

Me: “No we don’t have any plans for the WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE?!?! OFFSHORE DRILLING?!??!”

#2 The Humiliating Mammogram: Because my mom’s family insists on getting breast cancer, I’m required to get a yearly mammogram. For those young ‘uns out there who have not experienced this procedure, here’s a great way to practice.

First, place two metal pie pans in the freezer for 24 hours. Next, grab a stranger walking past your home and undress from the waist up. Have the stranger take the pie pans and smash them cymbal-like onto your left boob. Try this smashing from different angles. Repeat on the right side. Pay the stranger $50.

#3 The Angry Phlebotomist: As I sat down to get my blood drawn, the phlebotomist was on the phone yelling at the IT guy because her computer wasn’t working. Then she turned to me, eyes a-crazy and fangs glistening. She picked up a thick, thick needle and proceeded to shove in into my tiny, delicate little vein. My scream traumatized the women in the waiting room.

(Actual photo of the phlebotomist, taken from my cell phone.)

#4 The Fasting:  Because my blood needed to be nutrient-free (I guess Vampira is on a diet), I had to fast before my appointment. At 11 a.m., I dragged my famished body into the doctor’s office–and didn’t leave until 1:30! MORE THAN TWO HOURS OF STARVING AND TORTURE. Luckily, I’d packed provisions, which I ate immediately following my leeching. Note to self: swallowing 20 almonds without chewing is not good for my colon.

#5 The Bill: It was my understanding that insurance PAYS for office visits. But the nurse/IRS trainee informed me I owed them more than $50 for the fun experience I just had.

Now wait a minute. I had been groped, poked, fondled, grabbed and felt up. In slightly different circumstances, I’D be the one getting paid.