it's the most wonderful time of the year...

As I pork up on some lunch I realize today is the best day of the year. This afternoon I get my annual check-up. Here's what I have to look forward to:

Waiting at least 30 minutes in the waiting room.

Reading 3,000 baby magazines that tell me my eggs are no good at my age and that I suck because I'm childless.

Being addressed as if I were a criminal/alien-with-a-booger-dangling by the front desk staff.

Attempting to pee into a little cup without getting it all over the place.

Washing my hands twice, maybe three times afterward.

Finding out just how freakin' fat I have gotten and having it recorded in INK.

Getting my blood pressure taken and having to ask what it is EVERY TIME. After all, it is MY blood pressure. I don't know why they think I'm not interested.

Being asked when my last period was which I have NEVER been able to answer without going through their stupid little calendar glued to the desktop.

Getting stabbed by that wonderfully thick fingertip needle that sinks directly into the bone of my finger. I actually hope they take it from my arm--at least that's interesting to watch and somehow I don't think it hurts half as bad.

Waiting another 40 minutes in the exam room with a giant paper towel wrapped around me. (But I am smart enough to bring my pocket PC and read e-books instead of the awful baby, parenting and Oprah magazines. No offense, Oprah.)

Being opened up with a giant can-opener by my gyn while a total stranger/nurse stares at my butt.

Laying there wondering what the stranger/nurse is thinking about while she stares at my butt.

Laying there wondering if I have bad breath or stinky feet and wishing I had brought socks but gladly realizing that my toenails are nicely painted.

Having the most sensitive tissue in my body excavated with a brush that feels like a giant steel wire mascara wand/engine-part cleaner.

Laying there with my fingers crossed hoping I don't have to get a "surprise" colposcopy (biopsies), which is quite like medieval torture without any painkillers. (I've hated my previously well-loved gyn ever since she did the first one. It's all I can do not to kick her in the head these days.)

Being reprimanded for not doing my BSEs on a timely basis.

Being reminded that I am due for a mammogram.

Being asked if I am going to have kids and told I have no time left if I'm going to.

Being told I'll probably have to have a hysterectomy sometime soon if the uterine fibroids return quickly. (I had several removed in November, one of which was the size of a grapefruit and another the size of an apple.)

Having my guts squished from South to North and East to West.

Getting a lovely stack of sample pills held together by a rubber band. (Glad I have my bigger purse with me.)

Receiving my new prescription which I am very likely to lose by the time I finish my sample packs.

Paying my co-pay and being treated like a criminal/alien-with-a-booger-dangling by the check-out staff.

Walking to my car feeling a little more pissed off than usual.