The Joy of Dignity

I don’t have any, I used to but alas that too has disappeared along with my waist and all of my nouns.

I’m at that age where the state provide, free to women of my age. lady exams. You all know what I’m talking about.

I endured, yes endured the dreaded boob squeezing a couple of weeks ago. Arriving at a beautiful Georgian building in Dublin (that’s where the knocker examiner is) I had to fill in a list of questions about my ever growing boob, as you all know I’m happy to talk about them.

‘Implants’ teenage nurse asked

‘Excuse me, they’re natural’ I was a tad indignant to say the least

She grabbled with left boob so she did. Her hands were cold and my nipple stood to attention as though it had been shouted at. The rest of my boob played dead, turned into jelly and she could hardly catch it. At one stage she cupped my right boob in both her hands and dropped it onto the machine.

Dressed my boobs back up in my industrial ‘minimiser bra’ and the truth is even with sturdy undies I still look a dropped trifle.

My nipples were in and out so often they were both exhausted and terrified by teenage angry knocker examiner.

So all that’s left is the smear test, this is not something that I dread as much as the boob squeezing. The only thing that bothers me is the prep work for this. The leg shaving, not sure why, well maybe because it’s either shave or braid. I usually shave.

The fact that it’s a lady doctor is of some consolation to me. I thought we could chit chat about lady things and my dignity would remain intact.

Chit chat was going well until I was asked to pop up on the couch and she rolled out the ‘butcher paper’ I’m of an age when I remember butchers rolling out lengths of white ‘butcher paper’ Now I’ve this exam before and I’ve no idea why I didn’t notice it before. But I didn’t.

‘Just relax and pop your heels together’ why do they speak in that condescending voice.

The truth is I couldn’t relax all my mussels, as we all know midlife flatulence likes to surprise us all when we least expect it. But I was expecting it so there would be no surprises.. not this time.

‘You really need to relax Mrs Smith’

‘You really need me not to relax, because I can clear out this surgery and embarrass myself .. again..’

‘Mrs Smith really I’ve seen and heard it all before’

‘But what about my dignity’

Oh of course that’s right I don’t have any left..

The joy of Dignity

2 Comments

  1. Love your blog, laughing my face off! Thanks for your candour and giving me a glimpse of what’s to come.

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