Lizzy
“Lizzy Lewis,” the nurse calls from the doorway.
Standing, I approach her. When she sees me, she opens the door further and gestures inside.
“I’m Nancy, and I’ll be your nurse today,” she says with a smile.
I shoot her an answering smile. “Hi, Nancy. How’re you today?”
“Good. What about you?” she returns my greeting.
“I’m doing well.”
We stop for me to get weighed, and I pretend not to notice the few pounds I’ve gained. I enjoy baking too much to let a little weight stop me. Maybe if I had someone to share my concoctions with, I wouldn’t succumb to eating them all.
She takes my vitals, which are all normal. I’m not taking any medication, so that portion goes by quickly. Then she asks the reason for my visit.
“I’m here for my Pap Smear. So, just a regular checkup.” I hesitate, then muster a deep breath. “I’d also like to discuss birth control.”
Nancy stops talking to look at me. “We can definitely do that. Would this be for hormones and menstrual issues or for contraceptive methods?”
I blush like a nun despite being a twenty-six-year-old who has had sex. It’s been years, but I’m no virgin.
“Contraceptive,” I clarify.
“What are you currently using as a contraceptive? Condoms or…?” She keeps her tone professional, not an ounce of judgment in it. But I can’t imagine telling a gynecologist or her nurse that you use the classic pull-out method.
“None.” As she starts typing again, I blurt out, “I don’t use any because I’m not sexually active.”
She nods and notes it on her computer, then pauses to face me again. “You aren’t currently sexually active, but you’d like to get on a contraceptive? Do you plan on becoming sexually active in the near future?”
I redden even further. How do I explain to her that I’ve been asked on one date with a guy I’m not even sure I’m interested in and who hasn’t responded to my messages in days, but because I need to put myself out there and am already here, I’ve decided to get on birth control in case I get dicked down without sounding like a loser?
“Yes. I’m trying to put myself out there more. I have an upcoming date and want to be prepared. Not that I’m going to put out on the first date!” I tack on the end quickly. I know she’s not judging me, but I feel a thousand eyes on me.
“I completely understand. It’s smart of you to stay ahead on this. Do you know which method you’d like? Oral, implant, IUD?” Her demeanor relaxes me enough that my shoulders sag.
“I have no idea,” I confess. “What do you recommend?”
“There are plenty of options. The doctor can go over the specifics of each with you.” She digs into the hanging foldersbehind her and pulls out a pamphlet. “Here. This covers each one in detail.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, my attention already captured by the small purple pamphlet.
“The doctor will be with you shortly. Please put on the gown and sit on the table.” She leaves with those words, and I dutifully undress, fold my clothes, then put on the gown. The sheet goes on my lap, then I pick up the pamphlet.
It seems there are three different types of birth control. Combined hormonal contraceptives which are progestin and estrogen such as oral pill, weekly transdermal patch, and monthly vaginal ring. Those prevent ovulation and are about eighty-five percent effective. There are progesterone-only contraceptives such as three-month injections and a three-year implant. Injections seem like too much upkeep, but three years seems like a long commitment. At least until I see the third type. Emergency contraceptives like the Copper IUD are the most effective at ninety-nine percent. However, they last for five years, which is an even bigger commitment.
I’m still undecided when Dr. Sanchez comes in. She has a big smile on her face, always a welcoming presence.
“Hey, Lizzy. What’s new? I see it’s been a year since you’ve been here,” she asks as she washes her hands and puts on a pair of latex gloves.
Her question is harmless, but it causes me to freeze. It’s been a year since I’ve been here, and nothing has changed in my life. Nothing new has occurred. I haven’t progressed in any way. I’m happy with my life, but it’s disheartening to realize I’m in stasis.
“There really hasn’t been anything new.” I perk up when I remember, “The zoo got a new python! He’s been an exciting addition.”
Bless her heart, because she smiles and doesn’t comment on how boring or gross that is. “That’s wonderful. I’ll have to bring my daughter to see him soon.”
Her eyes drop to the pamphlet in my lap, then she opens the computer. “Let’s talk about contraceptives then we’ll move on to your Pap Smear.”
