Kind of like a parking ticket

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Doc: Everything seems fine. Any concerns?
Me: No, but talk to me in a couple of weeks and I’ll be ready to complain.
Doc: Done. Want me to check to see how dilated you are?
Me: Any reason other than curiosity? Cuz I’m good skipping it.
Doc: No reason. Some people just want to know.
Me: Well, they’re welcome to take my exam for me.
Doc: Thank goodness you said that. I have a quota to fill, see. I’m like the meter maid of cervixes.
Me: Your degree-granting institution must be so proud.
Doc: They would have been, but you just knocked me out of the running for a set of steak knives.
Me: Sounds like a great prize for a surgeon. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure someone in early labor will submit willingly.
Doc: Heck, yeah. But I get my most hits on the 41-weekers who are desperate for some progress.
Me: Suckers.
Doc: Indeed. See ya next week.

14 thoughts on “Kind of like a parking ticket”

    • Melissa, you’re hilarious. And smart. I *totally* could have negotiated at least one knife for home use.
      Kitch, your gratuitous praise of my pathetic attempts at humor are why I freaking LOVE you, man.

  3. At least your doctor has a sense of humor. I try so hard to get mine to crack a smile…but to no avail.

    • Lanita, I have a firm, firm policy about my doctors all needing either to find me funny or to make me laugh. Physicians, dentists, vets…you must all have a sense of humor or I will leave you for another. Life’s too short to have a paper pusher as a doc.

  5. I’m with you in the humor department. If my doctor doesn’t get my sense of humor or doesn’t have one similar to mine… see ya! I’m already nervous enough when I’m sitting on that paper on the table, something’s got to ease the pain. I love how at ease you seem to be with the doc… especially an OB. It’s definitely a good thing with someone looking at your cervix on a weekly/monthly basis.

  7. Falling, you’re testing my stress incontinence again.

    Dan, I think she’s the bee’s knees. Too bad the chances are way against her actually being the baby catcher and one of her partners, who told me 35th percentile was below normal, will undoubtedly darken my bedside.

    I’m with ya, Becca.

  10. The meter maid of cervixes? I want your doctor!!

    And, if I were a doctor, I would want you for a patient. Because you’re hilarious, yo.

    • Fae, that’s exactly why we both agreed to skip it. That’s why she let me skip it. She said, though, that she might ask again next week. I said I’d think about it.
      Ink , she’s pretty funny. I’m probably not, but I require someone who *thinks* I am. So you’re officially my professor for life. Dan’s my pediatrician for life. And Kitch is my personal chef. All other readers who promise to find me funny occasionally may fill in their profession and “for life” on their Naptime business cards.

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