6 THINGS I HATE ABOUT THE GP:
1. Explaining to the receptionist why you're there. Muttering through your blushes; "I'd like to speak to a doctor in confidentiality" apparently doesn't cut it, you have to give them every detail from your name and address to the date of your last visit (as if ANYONE can remember that!) and then wait in terror for them to ask the dreaded question: "And what's the problem?" Following your millions of "Erm.... well, it's er...." stutters and shifty glances directed anywhere but her face, she gives the knowing nod, types aloud: "Personal..." (loud enough for the other patients to hear, in fact - she might as well have shouted out "Unprotected Sex Testing!!") and nods you to sit down, while you feel the burning glare of "You completely irresponsible slag-bucket" vibes emmanating from her. Imaginary they may be, BUT THEY STILL EXIST.
2. Watching adoring fathers bringing in their ill children, clutching woefully at their parent's hand, and thinking; "Oh my holy god, I could have one of them in me right now" and fighting the urge to weep.
3. The 465,000 "Have YOU got it??" Chlamydia posters and flyers that cover every square inch of wall space in your direct eye-line. Do they KNOW??!
4. Dutifully ignoring the other patients as you wait for your name to be called out. It's almost as if they KNOW what you're there for. And your guilty shifting and avoiding eye-contact MAKES them know, whether they did or not. And then actually spasming in horror when the worst, and most obvious thing that could happen, does: A GIRL YOU RECOGNISE FROM COLLEGE WALKS IN. Oh god, please don't let her recognise me, PLEASE don't let her recognise me..... "Katrina O'Donnell? This way please!" College-Girl's head snaps up out of the corner of my eye, as I impersonate a traffic light, and scuttle into the dreaded back room.
5. Actually telling the doctor your predicament. You prickle with hot liquid shame, as you not only tell him that you're such a numpty you didn't put the condom back on, but are also such a drunken tart that you went home with a stranger - ON DAY 3 OF YOUR PERIOD. And then didn't DO anything about it till 5 days later. Then they give you the Look. To THEM, the Look says "You have been a foolish child, but I hope next time you are responsible enough to act on this sooner, before getting into trouble again." To YOU, the Look says "You are an absolutely disgusting hollow shell of a woman, and if this was 15th century London, you'd have died of Syphallis in a back alley."
6. Being informed that they can't even TEST you for STI's, and that you have to visit your nearest GUM clinic..... which is, oh let me think.... THE OTHER FUCKING SIDE OF TOWN!!! OK, so I just took 25 mins to tell the DOCTOR the full story of what happened - DO I LOOK LIKE I CAN ASK MY PARENTS TO DROP ME OFF AT A HOSPITAL WITHOUT EXPLAINING WHY??!
Anyway, I got referred to a doctor in the clinic next door, who gave me some kinda version of the Morning After pill. Apparently it's power diluted since I was taking it 5 DAYS LATER, but was still worth it, to reduce the pregnancy-risk and all. Didn't tell parents, for incredibly obvious reasons. I mean, Mum knows I'm "sexaully active" - I'm sure she doesn't WANT to, but she sorta found out after I sobbed down the phone "I even SLEPT with him, Mum!!" 2 hours after being dumped by C*nt-Face. Apart from asking me if I used protection (which I heartily assured her I did) when I went home that weekend, we never spoke about it since. As far as she's concerned, He's the only person I've ever had sex with, and for now, I don't mind letting her think that. So, yeah. I'm amazed I'm all light-hearted about it, whereas before, I thought I was pregnant, had AIDS, and was gonna have to book an abortion. But I've calmed down a little now, and know that whatever happens, when I find out, I can and will deal with it when the time comes.
At least I know I don't have Herpes. I would have seen it on him.
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Current Music: "Don't let it bring you down" - Annie Lennox
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