Hello, minions. I hope you are enjoying your early Spring and that the fates are being good to you. The medical world is blossoming with new life, and new twists on regular life as well. This weekend is the Super Moon, which, according to legend, will bring a surge in births, a deluge of ER visits, and untold misery to physicians everywhere.
In nature, Spring is the time to procreate, and the moon is said to bring lovers together and to boost one's fertility. Perhaps it is the confluence of the Super Moon and early Spring that is bringing strange fetishes to light here. I need to preface this post with this little-known fact: Women tell me everything. Literally....whether I want them to or not...and will go into their personal endeavors in great detail and with great regularity with me once that door closes. You don't believe me? Court is now in session.
Exhibit A: The Cougar
Me: Do you want to go on birth control?
Her: Well....no. Probably not. If I get pregnant, it serves me right...it's what I get for going to college bars and having sex with men I don't like.
Me: Um....
So you see, on the one hand, I appreciate their openness and their comfort levels to be able to discuss anything with me. However, on the other hand, um....WTF! Of course, not all of them are that self-depreciating. Take my pregnant patient who had an overly-concerned husband:
Exhibit B: The Sofa-Sleeper
Her: Doctor, is it safe for a pregnant woman to have sex.
Me: Of course....if you are not having any problems, it's perfectly safe.
Her: So it wouldn't hurt the baby or anything like that?
Me: No, not at all.
Her: And it wouldn't hurt me at all?
Me: No. It's perfectly fine.
Her: Well then would you mind telling my husband that so I can stop having to hump the couch.
Me: Um.....
Now, occasionally, with all of this hooking up with college boys and furniture, I am the one who misunderstands. That leads me to today's exchange with a newly pregnant couple; young, excited, about 14 weeks along, asking me questions about safety.
Exhibit C: The Fetish
Me: Everything looks great, the baby is doing well, do you guys have any questions?
Him: Well....I guess just one. Um...I was wondering, is a spank ok for her?
Me: Um....I suppose.
Him: I mean it's safe? It's not going to hurt her?
Me: Well, I don't know for sure. How hard were you planning on hitting her?
Him: *confused look*
Her: No, doctor, he means is it ok for me to wear Spanks.
Me: Oh, the spandex belly band? Why yes, of course, no harm there. Well everything is going well, see you next visit.
In my defense, whilst I am surrounded by women every day, I don't know all the fashion accessory lingo there is to know. And, frankly, it really wouldn't surprise me if there are people out there with a pregnant spanking fetish, walking among us, undetectable, hidden from sight until their wife's OB appointment. I'm probably just exaggering and overblowing the problem. However, the next time you see a pregnant woman waddle down the hall, you will wonder, just for a second, if it's because she's preggers.....or something else.
You just never know.
The Guru
The Gyno Guru
Musings and observations from a mild-mannered doctor trying to stay sane in an insane world.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
Smoking vs "Smoking"
So I had a patient recently come in for her yearly visit. Young girl, pleasant, former athlete, healthy. My nurse went through the normal questions: married or single, exercise regimen, caffeine, smoker? At the last question, she answered, "You mean cigarettes....no, I don't smoke." Fairly straightforward, right. Well not so fast.
When I entered the room it was like walking into Bob Marley's basement. I don't smoke weed, but this girl smelled like a medicinal marijuana clinic, not just a user. It was so prominent, I immediately wanted to put some Rusted Root on the radio and watch The Last Airbender reruns.
Hey, to each their own, but honestly, if you smoke that much weed, how can you consider yourself to be a non smoker? I get that it's not exactly socially acceptable, but frankly, and this isn't a bad thing, tobacco smoking has become so villianized and culturally gross that to some, weed smokers are better. At least they smell nicer....well the smoke...they still have that whole not-really-feeling-like-showering-ever and I'll-just-put-my-hair-in-dred-locks thing going on. But still, smoking weed is still smoking, isn't it? I have another patient who smokes "mad weed" and she works for the freaking government. I guess they either don't test, don't care, or nowadays it's damn near required to be stoned 24/7 if you work for the feds just to get by.
Am I a big marijuana proponent? No. Of course not. Smoking is smoking and is probably bad for you. Do I believe that there are medicinal qualities? Certainly. I'm sure if Pfizer could isolate it, they'd put it in a capsule and charge you $240 per month to take it, so it medically has merit. But that's not why these women smoke it. Not too many 26 year old glaucoma patients out there. Justifying smoking weed when you are young and healthy because of it's medicinal qualities is like saying you want to go on a ventilator for the weekend because you are really tired of breathing on your own. It may be medically helpful for some, but that's not why they smoke it. They smoke it to get high.
In general, I think weed is like beer, cigarettes, and other crutches people use to get them through their lives. I feel bad for some folk addicted to any drug...I mean how bad must your reality be for you to want to alter it on a regular basis?
Just don't say you are a non-smoker.
Peace and love, brothers and sisters....peace and love. And Hendrix.
And Doritos.
The Guru
When I entered the room it was like walking into Bob Marley's basement. I don't smoke weed, but this girl smelled like a medicinal marijuana clinic, not just a user. It was so prominent, I immediately wanted to put some Rusted Root on the radio and watch The Last Airbender reruns.
Hey, to each their own, but honestly, if you smoke that much weed, how can you consider yourself to be a non smoker? I get that it's not exactly socially acceptable, but frankly, and this isn't a bad thing, tobacco smoking has become so villianized and culturally gross that to some, weed smokers are better. At least they smell nicer....well the smoke...they still have that whole not-really-feeling-like-showering-ever and I'll-just-put-my-hair-in-dred-locks thing going on. But still, smoking weed is still smoking, isn't it? I have another patient who smokes "mad weed" and she works for the freaking government. I guess they either don't test, don't care, or nowadays it's damn near required to be stoned 24/7 if you work for the feds just to get by.
Am I a big marijuana proponent? No. Of course not. Smoking is smoking and is probably bad for you. Do I believe that there are medicinal qualities? Certainly. I'm sure if Pfizer could isolate it, they'd put it in a capsule and charge you $240 per month to take it, so it medically has merit. But that's not why these women smoke it. Not too many 26 year old glaucoma patients out there. Justifying smoking weed when you are young and healthy because of it's medicinal qualities is like saying you want to go on a ventilator for the weekend because you are really tired of breathing on your own. It may be medically helpful for some, but that's not why they smoke it. They smoke it to get high.
In general, I think weed is like beer, cigarettes, and other crutches people use to get them through their lives. I feel bad for some folk addicted to any drug...I mean how bad must your reality be for you to want to alter it on a regular basis?
Just don't say you are a non-smoker.
Peace and love, brothers and sisters....peace and love. And Hendrix.
And Doritos.
The Guru
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Quandry
My college roommate, whom I lived with for two years, is gay. I had no idea. None. Not until I re-connected with him a few years ago on Facebook and saw a picture of him and his ex-boyfriend posted there did I know. Everyone else knew, apparently, but not me. Now the million-dollar question is, "Why?"
I suppose first of all, he kept it private. Fine, I'm good with that. None of my business anyway. But I lived with him for two years and still had no clue. We roomed together in the dorm and lived off campus in a rental for a year. He was my best friend in college, we got drunk together, got in parking-lot fights, took road trips, and yes, sang Broadway show tunes together. But I honestly had no thoughts whatsoever that he was gay.
Here is the only conclusion I can reach: I am either incredibly open-minded, or completely oblivious. I, personally like to think it's the former, but I can understand how a combination of the two is in the works. Open-mindedness is fantastic. I think it welcomes diversity and new points of view. It opens the door to alternate ways of looking at the world and it's problems. It helps to see complex issues and problems from multiple angles, and thus, assists in solving those issues and problems. But being oblivious is not necessarily a bad thing either.
For example, I see pregnant women all day long, but had no clue that three women who work in my office were pregnant. And not just a little pregnant...but pregnant pregnant. The good news on that one is that I completely avoid the faux pax of asking someone who isn't with child when the baby is due (a mistake you make only once in life since there is no socially acceptable way to wiggle your way out of that nightmare). The bad news is that I now have to face life as the obstetrician who doesn't know someone standing down the hall is pregnant. Again, oblivious but not in a completely 100% bad way.
Frankly, I just don't care if someone is gay, straight, black, white, blue, red...whatever. Just don't be a jerk and I'm pretty much good with it. I keep hearing all these religious politicians and pundits speak of what God wants and what Jesus wants. I read the Bible and it seems quite clear to me: "Love one another as I have loved you." Translation: "Don't be a jerk off to someone else." Fairly simple concept that seems to be incredibly difficult for many people to place into practice. My roommate was a good guy. He was my traveling pal. He was my drinking and study buddy. That was the extent of it. He wasn't the gay guy that I lived with...he was my friend that I lived with. Perhaps I wasn't paying attention, but I think that probably more to the point, it wasn't something I was looking for because it wasn't important to me, and I honestly don't think it would have been any different if he would have told me from day one, because I liked him, I liked hanging out with him, and I liked who he was as a person.
See, that's the gist of this stupid world we inhabit. It doesn't matter what label you carry or what group you fall into...what matters is who you are and what you do with the time you are given. I'm not trying to build myself up as some great, enlightened creature because I'm still fairly certain that some of my open-mindedness is attributed to being oblivious, and I'm as fallible as the next guy. But you know how they say that deep down, we are all the same on the inside? Well they are right and I've seen it. I open people up weekly and we are all pretty much the same on the inside. If only everyone knew that.
So to sum up, my little minions:
a. I don't pay attention.
b. Gay = no big deal. Jerk off = bad.
c. Guts are guts, and are gross no matter what
d. I had a ton of fun with my roommate and my friends in college and wouldn't trade it for the world
Until next time.
The Guru
I suppose first of all, he kept it private. Fine, I'm good with that. None of my business anyway. But I lived with him for two years and still had no clue. We roomed together in the dorm and lived off campus in a rental for a year. He was my best friend in college, we got drunk together, got in parking-lot fights, took road trips, and yes, sang Broadway show tunes together. But I honestly had no thoughts whatsoever that he was gay.
Here is the only conclusion I can reach: I am either incredibly open-minded, or completely oblivious. I, personally like to think it's the former, but I can understand how a combination of the two is in the works. Open-mindedness is fantastic. I think it welcomes diversity and new points of view. It opens the door to alternate ways of looking at the world and it's problems. It helps to see complex issues and problems from multiple angles, and thus, assists in solving those issues and problems. But being oblivious is not necessarily a bad thing either.
For example, I see pregnant women all day long, but had no clue that three women who work in my office were pregnant. And not just a little pregnant...but pregnant pregnant. The good news on that one is that I completely avoid the faux pax of asking someone who isn't with child when the baby is due (a mistake you make only once in life since there is no socially acceptable way to wiggle your way out of that nightmare). The bad news is that I now have to face life as the obstetrician who doesn't know someone standing down the hall is pregnant. Again, oblivious but not in a completely 100% bad way.
Frankly, I just don't care if someone is gay, straight, black, white, blue, red...whatever. Just don't be a jerk and I'm pretty much good with it. I keep hearing all these religious politicians and pundits speak of what God wants and what Jesus wants. I read the Bible and it seems quite clear to me: "Love one another as I have loved you." Translation: "Don't be a jerk off to someone else." Fairly simple concept that seems to be incredibly difficult for many people to place into practice. My roommate was a good guy. He was my traveling pal. He was my drinking and study buddy. That was the extent of it. He wasn't the gay guy that I lived with...he was my friend that I lived with. Perhaps I wasn't paying attention, but I think that probably more to the point, it wasn't something I was looking for because it wasn't important to me, and I honestly don't think it would have been any different if he would have told me from day one, because I liked him, I liked hanging out with him, and I liked who he was as a person.
See, that's the gist of this stupid world we inhabit. It doesn't matter what label you carry or what group you fall into...what matters is who you are and what you do with the time you are given. I'm not trying to build myself up as some great, enlightened creature because I'm still fairly certain that some of my open-mindedness is attributed to being oblivious, and I'm as fallible as the next guy. But you know how they say that deep down, we are all the same on the inside? Well they are right and I've seen it. I open people up weekly and we are all pretty much the same on the inside. If only everyone knew that.
So to sum up, my little minions:
a. I don't pay attention.
b. Gay = no big deal. Jerk off = bad.
c. Guts are guts, and are gross no matter what
d. I had a ton of fun with my roommate and my friends in college and wouldn't trade it for the world
Until next time.
The Guru
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
The Opening Salvo
So, at the request of several of my "friends" I have been talked into blogging. Right from the start, my biggest question was "Who, on God's green Earth cares what I say...much less what I type into a box". Sadly there was no answer so I am forced to experiment and see for myself.
For those who don't know me, first off, congratulations and turn back now while you still can. If you are foolish enough to keep reading, I am a gynecologist in Ohio. I know, I know...can you believe that such a glamorous job exists? Forget Hollywood. Screw Wall Street. Piss off corporate raiders living on private islands. The Ohio gyno has you all beat on flash. At any rate, once I settled into the fast-paced, all-go, life-on-the-razor's-edge world of medicine in Ohio, I began to notice that, despite my best efforts, strange and occasionally amazing things were afoot. In an attempt to maintain my own sanity, this is my way of purging the good and the bad from my psyche.
Why the name? Why not? I found out early on that I am not a doctor, nor a gynecologist, nor an OB/GYN. To most women in this world I am a "Gyno" or, more often, "The Gyno". And since most of what I do has very little to do with medicine (and because alliteration gets butts in the seats) Guru seemed to fit. You don't understand? Fine:
Example 1: I had a patient in the office a few months ago and, per routine, asked her if she was involved in a relationship, ie married or dating.
Me: "So are you in a relationship. Married? Dating?"
Her: "No...and it's depressing me. I am 30 years old and not married. My mother is disappointed in me and I'm beginning to wonder if anything is wrong with me. I mean everyone I know is married by now. Everyone. My sister is married. My brother got married. My two cousins are married. Granted they are married to each other, but at least they are married."
Me: "Huh?"
Her: "Yes. They are from another state where that is ok to do and got married a few years ago. They seem happy."
Me: *blank stare*
Her: "So you can see why I'm so bummed out because everyone, even my cousins, are married and I'm not"
Me: "A little pressure here."
The conversation itself was strange enough, but then I began to ponder her situation. How can it be that a young woman was so distraught over being single that consanguinity was the better, more acceptable option to her? Would her mother really be that overjoyed if she called and said, "Mom! I'm engaged! Yes it happened last night right after the family reunion. He's a great guy, works full time, he's super cute, and you met him 28 years ago when your sister delivered him! I know....I'm over the moon!"?
Very little of what I learned in medical school actually applies to my job.
The Guru
For those who don't know me, first off, congratulations and turn back now while you still can. If you are foolish enough to keep reading, I am a gynecologist in Ohio. I know, I know...can you believe that such a glamorous job exists? Forget Hollywood. Screw Wall Street. Piss off corporate raiders living on private islands. The Ohio gyno has you all beat on flash. At any rate, once I settled into the fast-paced, all-go, life-on-the-razor's-edge world of medicine in Ohio, I began to notice that, despite my best efforts, strange and occasionally amazing things were afoot. In an attempt to maintain my own sanity, this is my way of purging the good and the bad from my psyche.
Why the name? Why not? I found out early on that I am not a doctor, nor a gynecologist, nor an OB/GYN. To most women in this world I am a "Gyno" or, more often, "The Gyno". And since most of what I do has very little to do with medicine (and because alliteration gets butts in the seats) Guru seemed to fit. You don't understand? Fine:
Example 1: I had a patient in the office a few months ago and, per routine, asked her if she was involved in a relationship, ie married or dating.
Me: "So are you in a relationship. Married? Dating?"
Her: "No...and it's depressing me. I am 30 years old and not married. My mother is disappointed in me and I'm beginning to wonder if anything is wrong with me. I mean everyone I know is married by now. Everyone. My sister is married. My brother got married. My two cousins are married. Granted they are married to each other, but at least they are married."
Me: "Huh?"
Her: "Yes. They are from another state where that is ok to do and got married a few years ago. They seem happy."
Me: *blank stare*
Her: "So you can see why I'm so bummed out because everyone, even my cousins, are married and I'm not"
Me: "A little pressure here."
The conversation itself was strange enough, but then I began to ponder her situation. How can it be that a young woman was so distraught over being single that consanguinity was the better, more acceptable option to her? Would her mother really be that overjoyed if she called and said, "Mom! I'm engaged! Yes it happened last night right after the family reunion. He's a great guy, works full time, he's super cute, and you met him 28 years ago when your sister delivered him! I know....I'm over the moon!"?
Very little of what I learned in medical school actually applies to my job.
The Guru
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