Recognizing, of course, that a gynecologist would be unlikely to do a good job with layering and highlights

So, here's what I'm wondering: If forced to choose, would you rather go to the gynecologist or the dentist?

I realized yesterday that I'd choose the gynecologist, hands down. Sure, you're in stirrups, ass on the edge of a table, hoo-ha forward for God and everyone. Or anyway, your gynecologist and maybe a nurse if your GYN is male.

And sometimes it's pinchy. Or cold.

But you can carry on a conversation, even if it's odd, and it's all over quickly. And there's no noise associated with it.

This occurred to me as I was sitting in the dental chair, sweating profusely as the hygienist scraped scraaaaaped SCRAAAAAPED away at the tsk tsk tsk! do you floss? (I do! I do!) plaque buildup.

It's not that it hurts, except for one or two spots where I have recessions, and then when she hits those I flinch and it's like a cold clammy bolt of electricity covers me like a film from head to toe, and I'm left with a damp sweat on my hairline.

So, yah, that kind of sucks.

But mostly it's the SCRAAAAAAAAAPING.

"How have you been?" Scrape scrape.

And your mouth is wide open, you know, being scraped, so you're all, "Hiing, hankh. Ooo?"

I realize now what a wreck I was after Jordan was born, that the dentist seemed so relaxing. I suppose everything really is relative.

But there I was, thinking, Jesus God, I would so much rather be poked and prodded naked from the waist down.

Seriously, as I sat there, I ranked stressful routine-ish medical situations. So, the childbirth C-section would of course top the list. But then I'm gonna say dentist. Then gynecologist. Then everything else.

Am I missing anything?

I was going to put getting your hair done in there, because you know, a chunk of your self-esteem is put in someone else's hands, and now instead of feeling more attractive after my Saturday appointment, I feel like a boy. A boy with beige hair.

Then I remembered that hairdressers are of course not in the medical profession.

But now I'm all, I hate my hair, and, matter of fact, I think I'd rather have gone to the gynecologist.

I don't know how this suddenly became my default comparison.