It takes one to know one

Recently, I found myself in search of a good 'gina doc. My old OB/GYN was good, I guess, I mean Zoe's here and all so she did her job (including waking up at 1 am and delivering Zoe with her hair matted in a serious bedhead.). But Old OB doesn't take my new insurance and I was informed by my new primary physician that I had to find a new one before getting pregnant (we are about to officially pull the goalie) as they won't let you switch later. She recommended a doc in my plan and told me all her patients really like him.

HIM.

Is it just me or is anyone else suspicious of a dude who has to have his hand halfway up some one's ya-ya for most of the day? Plus, how does he know how anything feels? Does he have any clue how bizarrely intense it is to have your ovaries and uterus checked, from the inside? That sh!t is just ODD feeling and for some reason, I've always felt that unless you have lived through it yourself, you have no right to do it to another human being. Like a special kind of female hazing or something.

But she insisted he was good so off I went.

The office was nice, though they had a huge billboard-size sign up by the reception desk advertising some other doctor in the building. It's a photo of a lady's rear end (a very smooth, skinny rear end. Like the perfect orbs of a 15 year old gymnast or something.) and an announcement of a monthly special for a cellulite treatment. I'm sure all the pregnant ladies LOVE to stare at this decidedly un-pregnant tush as they waddle their way to the bathroom with yet another plastic cup. Jeez.

When I checked in, the ladies at the desk had NO idea what to do with me since I had no complaints, wasn't pregnant and didn't especially need a physical. "I just want to meet the doc and chat. You know, a pre-conception visit." I must have been speaking Martian because several different people looked at me like.... I was speaking Martian. Finally I gave up and said "oh fine, I'm sure I'm due for a pap.". Next thing I knew, I had wrapped my naked body in a paper "gown" and was sitting on the table waiting to meet HIM.

He entered and gave a good strong handshake, with a smile and direct eye contact. Check, check, check. He did the whole pap thing, the scrape the insides of my junk thing, and was out the door pretty quickly. I am always a little disappointed with doctors these days. I have this fantasy doctor in my head: warm, kind, patient, has all the time in the world to listen to me prattle on about my every hangnail and digestive episode. And in reality, they are all stretched really thin. They have little time to give you and need to cover all the necessary bases. This guy didn't want to hear about Zoe's birth story, told in real time preferably, but he did cover all the important bases, with clear expertise and efficiency. He's obviously done this A LOT. So I guess he'll do just fine as our next baby catcher.

There was one good omen. When I told him Old OB's name he told me he delivered her two kids. That sounds like a pretty good recommendation to me.