Yesterday I wrote about having lunch with a friend the day before. In between my teasing the waitress and manager about being carded if we ordered a drink, my friend and I discussed her upcoming "women's health appointment." In case you're wondering, that's code for the YPE (yearly pelvic exam).
I've blogged about that particular pleasure in past posts. As we talked, I picked up the cocktail napkin, about two inches square, and said, "This is what they give you to cover yourself with."
My friend nodded. "It's going to take a hell of a lot napkins to cover me." Then she lowered her voice and added another insight. (Did I mention that, like me, she is exceptionally wise?) "You know those half gowns they give you to cover your upper half? Do you sweat through yours?"
"Like a fieldhand in an Arizona summer." The paper gowns, made out of the cheapest paper available, dissolve at the least hint of moisture, AKA sweat. And what woman, with her feet up in the air, her private parts exposed, and a doctor sticking an ice cold speculum up her business, isn't sweating like a pig?
Gem for the day: before you go for your next YPE, consider taking a shot of tequila.
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