I can’t believe how long it has been since I have written a post about my vagina. Not to worry, I am not out of vagina stories. Here’s one now:
You guys may recall that I had my Essure procedure done last May. That was a crazy hectic time in my life that involved court hearings and being homeless for 4 months (which is another story I haven’t told but will get to eventually).
Basically, the one thing I really needed was some time off (and a place to live and money and not having a shitty abusive ex stalking me). I went to my boss. He only vaguely knew any of the anything that was happening in my life.
I mentioned that I was having the Essure procedure and would need a few days off for recovery. His response was that I was going to regret it. And that if I didn’t want to have kids then I just shouldn’t have sex. Like, ever, I guess.
Naturally we agreed to disagree and he said I could have the time off. Like I said, I tend to not get too involved with personal discussions.
A few days before the procedure I went into his office. We were discussing some sensitive work related things, so I closed the door to his office. Per my usual.
Once we had wrapped up the work talk I reminded him that I would be out the following week for my procedure.
I should remind you all that I am the only woman at my office. And everyone tends to tiptoe around me depending on the subject matter. Especially ‘gross lady body things.’ Because women’s bodies are apparently repulsive to some men.
My boss had forgotten I was going to be out so he entered in my vacation time. And then he asked the question:
“So, where do they go in for this procedure?”
I looked at him for a few beats. I was really confused. I said “Um…Well… my vagina?” I didn’t know how else to say it.
My boss freaked out when I said vagina. He began stuttering. “Oh! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean… I just thought..”
So then I asked the natural question. “Where did you think they went in?”
“I don’t know. Your neck?” He had his hands up as if to ward off the dreaded ‘v word.’
Now I was even more confused. “My neck? How could they go in through my neck? I know you know how female anatomy works. You have a wife and four daughters.”
He jumped up out of his chair. “I forgot you were having this surgery. I thought it was for your shoulder or something.”
“Well, it isn’t. It’s for my vagina.” I couldn’t believe how many times I was saying vagina to my boss.
And neither could he. He practically ran to open his door so we weren’t alone, with the door shut, talking about my vagina.
He then told me, “Please get out of my office. I can’t even look at you right now. You could have said it was personal or something.”
“It isn’t personal. Half the population of the world has a vagina. I’m not embarrassed of it. You asked a question and I answered it.”
“Please don’t in the future.”
I left his office and went into mine. I didn’t even bother to close the door before I laughed and laughed until I couldn’t breathe and my stomach hurt. Sorry to all the men out there that can’t handle vaginas.
We have to see your penises all the time. And see commercials on TV with our parents for drugs to help you guys get erections. And get unwanted dick pics. And see teenage boys draw penises on EVERYTHING. And you can’t handle me saying the word vagina.
A few minutes later I was telling this story to another co-worker so we could laugh about it when my boss walked up. He put his hand over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at me.
“You know,” I said. “I used the medical term for that body part. And I almost didn’t. I don’t know what the issue is here. It would be like me saying my phalanges or my gluteus maximus. It’s work appropriate.”
I still stand by that. I only told a few work people about this story. People that can handle knowing that I actually have a vagina.
We still bring it up to my boss sometimes to make fun of him. And whenever I tell him I have a doctor’s appointment for any reason, he stops me from giving him any details about it. He apparently doesn’t want to hear about my vagina as much as you guys do.