Health & Fitness - Gynecologist

Excerpted from
A Virgin's Guide to Everything : From Sushi to Sample Sales--A Novice's Handbook to Doing It Right
By Lauren McCutcheon

We admit it: We're addicted to Self magazine. Month after month, cover to cover, reading each issue feels like eating a salad, taking a brisk walk, and having a heart-to-heart. Every thirty days, we get a new chance at our New Year's resolution-and if we break it, a new edition's on its way in a few weeks.

It's possible our addiction to Self is the reason this chapter's the longest in the book. But what were we gonna do, write a book about living the good life without including exploits taken from fun-filled visits to the does we rely on most from our teens through our thirties: the gyno, denno, and therapist? No way. Nor could we resist debunking the Hans-and-Franz myth of the personal trainer, or the Dharma-and-Greg-driven idea of what yoga is all about. Toss in a sweet Swedish rubdown, and dreams of all-inclusive destination spas, and what do you get? Several pages that are entirely self-centered.

Gynecologist

Wear socks.

Nobody ever tells you that one, essential piece of information required for your first trip to the gyno. They tell you-and we'll tell you-a lot of other, bigger advice. But the socks thing. That part inevitably seems to slip everyone's mind.

Socks are way important.

You're lying on an examination table, wearing nothing but a thin paper sheet and a very non-Diane von Furstenberg wrap garment. Your butt has dutifully scooted down to the end of the table. Your legs are bent and akimbo, heels placed in stirrups. You are one nervous nudie-most obviously because you're currently exposing body parts that haven't been scrutinized in this sort of fluorescent lighting since the brilliant day you made your debut into the world.

So there you are, in your full glory. You try to make polite conversation with your doctor and a nurse or two while a large metal object invades your insides. Despite all these attention stealers, all you can think is, man, my feet are freezing.

To their credit, an increasing number of gynecologists swaddle their tables' stirrups in custom-made felt booties (which, more often than not, coordinate with the wrap garment). It's a really nice gesture. But the booties don't keep your toes or the tops of your feet toasty. And they have a tendency to disappear from examination rooms in the same fashion that socks disappear during the laundry. (Somewhere out there a nurse is walking a Great Dane bedecked in really nice felt footwear.) The moral of this story: Bring socks.

Girl, You'll Be a Woman, Soon

We are, quite obviously, getting ahead of ourselves here. You may be wondering if you need to make your maiden voyage to the gyno at all.

Honeys, if Aunt Dot's making her monthly visits, you do. If you've done the dirty, you do. If you're planning to run the bases, thinking of bearing young, experiencing any abnormal pain, discharge, bleeding, itching, or lumpiness, you do.

How often? Usually once a year. That's it. Unless you need a new prescription, or have a new concern that can wait however long it takes to get an appointment.

Get Set

How to find a good doc. Ask your friends. Ask your primary care physician. Ask your sisters. Ask your health insurance provider.

(Important thing to remember: If someone else pays for your health insurance-if you're in school, this is very likely-that person will receive an invoice detailing the services you receive at the doctor, services that could include pregnancy testing, STD testing, birth control, other details you might not want to discuss with Dad or Mom. If you want to keep this part of your health private, look for a Planned Parenthood or a free clinic.)

It's perfectly fine if you don't want to go to your mama's ob-gyn. It's also fine to request a woman.

Does who share a large practice will likely be able to see you sooner and more often. Popular single or small-office does are typically harder to book, but they will know you each time you return.

When to schedule your appointment. Best timing is one week after your period, when your insides are relaxed and your boobs aren't bloated. Most gyns won't see a patient during her period. Most prefer not to see a patient the week before.

Before you go. Make a list of questions you'd like to ask the doctor.

The day of. Bathe. Shave. Don't douche. Pack socks.

In the Office

Most doctors' offices ask you to arrive early so that you can enjoy some paperwork. Pick up your clipboard and stash your creativity and modesty under your chair. There's nobody gonna share your answers with the rest of the class. If you check yes in the "Do you think you could be pregnant" box, you'll be treated to a little plastic cup and shown to the loo. You get to give a golden sample.

Next: Your name is called. You follow a person wearing a scrub top covered in cartoon characters to a little room, where you do a pediatrician-style pantomime. You're weighed. You get your blood pressure taken. You tell the first day of your last period. Or you guess it. No sweat.

Hop On Up

Ha. Then you see the outfit you'll have to put on. At least you get to don it in private. The thin cottonesque dress ties in front. The paper sheet serves as your no-thread-count leg blanket. So take off your pretty clothes. Leave your socks on. And hop up onto that table, Girlie!

There's a knock on the door. No need to get up to answer it. A frightened "Come in" will do.

This, dear patient, is your doctor. If this doctor's a he, he's bound to bring a female assistant along. If your doc's a woman, she may bring one along, too. Either way, you have the right to ask for a sidekick to come in who will look at you sympathetically, hold your hand, or tell you jokes while the deal goes down.

If your doc would like to bring anyone else-a doctor in training, the cast of Grey's Anatomy - you have the right to say no way.