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I can deal with the fingers up my ass.
I can deal with that thing that looks like a curling iron.
I can deal with them pushing on my ovaries and scraping and muttering and whatnot.
What I cannot deal with is them telling me that because I've never had children, I have to go through counseling and be 35 years old before they'll even consider tying my tubes or giving me the Essure procedure. I am not crazy, nor have I changed my mind about having children in twenty years. I promise not to sue if I change my mind about kids, because I already have so many back problems that I'd rather adopt and not run the risk of damaging my back further by becoming pregnant. I'm fully cognizant of the responsibilities of having a child but because of this, I'm crazy? Don't think so.
THAT is what I hate about going to the gyno.
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Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
I am large. I contain multitudes.
-Walt Whitman, Song of Myself
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