"My back hurts!" I yelled over my knees to the vagiscope. I need a backiotomy!"
"I'm going to saturate your cervix in iodine" she prattled on about my vag, "If it turns a mustard color, well then you're gravely ill."
"Did you hear me?" I grew angry.
"I will write you a note for an ergonomic evaluation. Ah, your cervix is perfectly normal. There is no reason for alarm."
"I am not alarmed," I said, swinging my legs away from her. "My back hurts in my dumb work chair." I repeated that a few times while she carried on and on and on about my vag, an apparent pastime of hers. I was only putting myself through this so I could get back on birth control as I am with Isacc again. He asked me to marry him and agreed to let me birth a baby that he will change the diapers of (I assume) within a couple years.
I was late for my period last month and journeyed to the Dollar Tree for a pregnancy test which informed me that no, I was not pregnant. I tossed it in the trash somewhat sadly knowing in my heart it was not good to harbor a two-headed Lexapro and Ambien fetus at this time anyhow.