Dr. Stephenson, You've Got Some Explaining to Do

In the waiting room of the Center for Colorectal Health, keep your eyes down at all times.

Lots of ass-shame in that room. So much ass-shame.

I couldn't quite see too well…, so the memory is sketchy due to my weak peripheral vision and tendency to imagine things that might or might not have been real, but I'm pretty sure everyone there but me was in disguise.…

I didn't wear a costume because I didn't know about the ass-shame ahead of time…

It bothered me that I was the only woman in there. I'm pretty sure they all assumed I'd been having shitloads of anal sex, which I haven't by the way. So to prove it I cleared my throat and said “Hey you guys, quick poll! Raise your hand if you hate anal sex!” and raised my hand, so crisis averted, ass-virtue preserved.

But just in case, to make my point clear, I borrowed a post-it pad from the receptionist and made some signs for my ass, and then sauntered casually around the room for a bit.…

You know how in movies, they bend you over the table? I was ready for that.

And you know how at the gyno, they put your legs up in stirrups? I could've handled that.

But what she did was…she rolled me onto my side and told me to pull my legs up to my chest. Then she stuck her jellied finger up my butt while I lay in the fetal position, which is like tucking someone into bed with their teddy bear and a cup of hot cider and nestling them in the arms of the tooth fairy as Santa sits at the foot of the bed making his list and checking it twice and telling you that you've been a good girl and then surprise! Look over there! It's your Nana giving a donkey a hand job! Yeah, see? Confused feelings is right!


Even with the confusion, this sounds like a much better digital rectal exam than I've ever had. Mine proceed like Festivus, starting with the airing of the grievances (what's happened ass-wise since my last exam), and going right into the Feats of Strength — where the doctor and assistants overpower me to get me into the exam room and onto the table. Finally, there's the cuddling, afterwards, which I really hate: I really rather just cry in peace.

Wait. What do you mean digital rectal exams don't require cuddling?