OBGYN Calamity

My lovely Dr. Sarah

For 15 years I had the most amazing OBGYN doctor. She helped me during my pre-cancerous cell procedure and calmed me down when I cried after a bad result from a pap smear. She guided me through both pregnancies and delivered both of my boys, safe and sound. I thought of her more like a friend than a doctor and always enjoyed my visits to see her (yes, even though I was having the dreadful deed done).  I bet I never waited longer than 15 minutes to see her and she was always quick and friendly and super professional.When she told me last Autumn that she was closing her small practice because it was no longer sustainable I was heartbroken.

So I've dragged my feet on finding a new OBGYN, even though I know I need to keep up with regular checks (the ladies in my family have a history of ovarian cysts and lady-troubles so I need to be alert).  When I got a sharp nagging pain in my groin recently I bit the bullet and on the advice of a friend called another practice to make an appointment.

After filling out 10 pages of paperwork I sat in the waiting room for an hour. An HOUR. Then they called me back to his office. HIS office. Oh.My.God. I do not want a male doctor who looks like he's just walked off a cheesy soap opera. He had slicked back hair and a bright white Oscar-worthy smile and I nearly puked. My nether-regions are seen by (1) me, (2) Craig (3) a female doctor who looks like a Sarah and not a Britney, (4) my children and pets if they follow me into the bathroom to keep pestering me, which is often the case.

Anyway, after chatting with said doctor for 5 minutes and him telling me that the pain could not be attributed to cysts because my lady-parts are not in the groin area, he led me to the examination room and said "get yourself undressed and I'll be back in a few minutes". So I sat, with the white paper square across my lap on the exam table for another HOUR. I'm not kidding. By this point I'm furiously texting Craig and contemplating leaving the building, after I got dressed of course. Instead, I peeked out of the door, still with white paper clutched around my bare arse, and called out "hello?"   And then the doctor came around the corner, positively growled at me, grabbed my folder from a shelf and came into the room. He then barked at me "I'm sorry but I was seeing to a woman who had a miscarriage!" At this point I'm not sure what's worse - the fact that he just told me another woman's private business or the fact that he was quite content to leave me all day without sending a nurse to let me know what was going on. With over 2 hours invested already and a strong desire to just get it over with, I lay back and thought of England while he did his job. Afterwards he said "good luck" and left the room. No handshake, no kind words or follow-up plan. And no advice on the pain, which is getting worse by the day.

I have already found a new OBGYN, a woman who used to be Dr. Sarah's partner. So as soon as I get the results from numb-nuts I'll follow up with her. And I looked at a diagram of a woman's body and the pain I have is right where my ovaries are. What's the chances I find the only OBGYN doctor in the USA who doesn't know where a woman's damn ovaries are?