Slapstick Gynecology

I swear, when it rains it pours. I either have not got one damn thing to say to you all, and I fear losing you forever, or I have so much to say you can't believe it. Funny how that works.

Yesterday was the day of my Lady Bits Checkup. I went to the doctor, and I saw a nurse practitioner, cause the doctor was somewhere else, I dunno. So, she was a lovely lady, and she was quick and thorough and chatty- that's what I like. I like to be told stories when I am wearing outfits made of paper- it helps to take my mind off the fact that I am buttass naked save for a paper vest and paper sheet thing.

So anyway, there I am on the table, and the lady is doing what the do during those appointments. I can see the top of her head, and she's talk talk talking away. Then I don't see her head anymore. I hear a crash, and as I start to half try to sit up (carefully, as my bottom was, well, out there) I see the Nurse sprawled out on the floor. Looking like those little cartoon birds are flying around her head like they do on Looney Tunes.

I was horrified. I mean, did she recoil at the sight of my...my flower? It's not the stuff adult films are made of, but I don't have vagina dentata or anything. Why did this happen? To me? While I am in stirrups and a paper suit?

It turned out that a bolt on the little stool she was using had been very loose for some time, and today it came unbolted. As she pushed back from the table, the part on which she had been sitting excused itself, and she hit the floor.

So, she was okay, I am okay, we each recouped approximately 5 shreds of dignity, and I thanked the heavens that we don't have to see each other for at least another 364 days.