Recommended reading: The nasty story we both are reacting to!!
Um, Ew.
I’m horrified.
While the most “under” I’ve ever been is when I had my wisdom teeth out (if hands went anywhere south of my jaw line we are in trouble), I still feel incredibly violated and in need of a hot shower after reading this article. And maybe a drink.
Call me a prude but when it comes to that “area” I consider myself a bit of a Gate Keeper. Usually, I like to have a handle on who gets to see my woman bits, and to be perfectly honest, I also prefer to know names most of the time. Not to mention that before that area is generally exposed to friends and/or strangers, this Gate Keeper also likes to engage in certain mental and possibly decorative preparations.
I get that these would be future medical professionals taking turns sitting in front of and inspecting my birthing canal. However, the fact that Doogie and his colleagues are doing this while I lay unconscious, drooling, and unaware, seems a wee bit invasive… and a little bit like an alien abduction.
Unless I am on the operating table flatlining, and the only thing that will save me is an “emergency pelvic exam”, I would expect the doctors to carry out only the procedures I’ve signed up for. It only seems fair.
It’s true that during consensual pelvic exams with my own doctor, I often wish she would club me over the head to spare the awkwardness of the procedure. However I do appreciate her guiding me through the process and commenting on my choice of toe nail polish. It’s kind of nice to be awake and alert while your most private parts are being examined … just saying.
I’m not against hands on training – especially in the medical profession – and I understand that in order for these people to get good at their jobs they have to practice. Believe me, I want these people to be good at their jobs – they get paid enough.
I just feel as though there are certain ethics that should be followed…. kind of like buying a lady dinner and opening a car door.
Ask First. Ask me nicely..... and who knows? Maybe I’m feeling generous and just might grant Doogie and his friends front row tickets to the show.
Um, Ew.
I’m horrified.
While the most “under” I’ve ever been is when I had my wisdom teeth out (if hands went anywhere south of my jaw line we are in trouble), I still feel incredibly violated and in need of a hot shower after reading this article. And maybe a drink.
Call me a prude but when it comes to that “area” I consider myself a bit of a Gate Keeper. Usually, I like to have a handle on who gets to see my woman bits, and to be perfectly honest, I also prefer to know names most of the time. Not to mention that before that area is generally exposed to friends and/or strangers, this Gate Keeper also likes to engage in certain mental and possibly decorative preparations.
I get that these would be future medical professionals taking turns sitting in front of and inspecting my birthing canal. However, the fact that Doogie and his colleagues are doing this while I lay unconscious, drooling, and unaware, seems a wee bit invasive… and a little bit like an alien abduction.
Unless I am on the operating table flatlining, and the only thing that will save me is an “emergency pelvic exam”, I would expect the doctors to carry out only the procedures I’ve signed up for. It only seems fair.
It’s true that during consensual pelvic exams with my own doctor, I often wish she would club me over the head to spare the awkwardness of the procedure. However I do appreciate her guiding me through the process and commenting on my choice of toe nail polish. It’s kind of nice to be awake and alert while your most private parts are being examined … just saying.
I’m not against hands on training – especially in the medical profession – and I understand that in order for these people to get good at their jobs they have to practice. Believe me, I want these people to be good at their jobs – they get paid enough.
I just feel as though there are certain ethics that should be followed…. kind of like buying a lady dinner and opening a car door.
Ask First. Ask me nicely..... and who knows? Maybe I’m feeling generous and just might grant Doogie and his friends front row tickets to the show.
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