Dating a gynecologist instant datingmeet someone tonight

"You want somebody who's going to understand that this is your first experience and it's a little nerve-wracking," Dr. You probably won't get a pelvic exam that early, but she can assess your medical history and help you with any period probs.

Plus, when you're ready to do the deed, you'll already have a doctor you trust. If you're having severe cramps or a super-heavy flow or wicked mood swings, your gynecologist wants to hear about it so she can help.

The male gynecologist can be a polarizing figure: Some women avoid them as a personal policy, while others actively seek them out.

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) Still, there are a few common mistakes that doctors see over and over – and those mistakes can keep you from getting the best possible care. "When you make the appointment, just say, 'I'm really nervous because this is my first visit,'" says Serena Chen, MD, director for reproductive medicine at Institute for Reproductive Medicine and Science at Saint Barnabas. Even if you haven't had sex yet – and aren't planning to anytime soon – a gynecologist is still an important part of your health squad.

Then gauge how they react – do they brush off your concerns, or try to reassure you? The American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists recommends scheduling your first visit between ages 13 and 15.

"The important thing is to be honest with your doctor and let them know everything that's going on, instead of leaving the questions in the bubble above your head," Dr. If there's something you're too embarrassed to ask, write it down and bring it with you instead. Step away from those products that promise to make your ladybits smell like a field of wildflowers. "Feminine deodorant sprays can cause irritation or allergic reactions, and they can create an imbalance in the chemistry of the vagina and lead to higher rates of bacterial overgrowth or yeast overgrowth." That said, if you feel like you smell extra-funky, schedule an appointment to make sure you don't have an infection. If you have the telltale symptoms of a urinary tract infection (you feel like you have to pee all the time, and it burns when you do), don't waste time trying to treat it with home remedies. She can give you a rundown of your options and help you choose the best one for you.

If anatomical terms make you cringe, use whatever words you're comfortable with – your gyno has heard it all before. "Douches are actually associated with higher rates of pelvic inflammatory disease. Otherwise, just wash with mild soap in the shower like you normally would – that's all the hygiene you need.5. Your doctor couldn't care less whether you've got a Brazilian wax, an untamed wilderness, or anything in between. "A UTI can go to your kidneys, so that should be considered urgent," Dr. If you can't get a doctor's appointment, see if the nurse at the office can prescribe a treatment, or visit a walk-in clinic to get a urine culture done. And, friendly reminder, she'd prefer you do all that you actually do the deed.

But you know they’d rather hear the coffee shop version over the truth, no matter how unsatisfying it is, because the few times you responded with “He was my gynecologist,” people suddenly realized they had to go to the bathroom or that their drink was empty, and when they leave you, you know they aren’t coming back.

They won’t give you the chance to explain the whole story— That you felt something when he looked into your eyes with his steel blue ones, and it wasn’t because, at the same time, his fingers were rubbing your boobs to check for lumps and that your boobs hadn’t been touched in eight months, (twelve months if you didn’t count that guy Dan you went out with a few times who thought it was sexy to shake your boobs like an aerosol can during foreplay), but Kevin was different because he asked you questions while he touched you, questions about you (and your medical history), and even though he may have had to ask, you could tell he really cared because his voice was tender, and when he told you to lie on your back and stuck the speculum inside you, you imagined it was him in you, that you were fucking on the beach since there was a tropical calendar picture taped to the ceiling tile above you, likely to make patients feel more relaxed while getting probed, but you were completely relaxed because it felt good; you told yourself it wasn’t because you longed for any sign of affection from anyone other than your cat, but that maybe for once you had a guy who actually knew what he was doing down there, and whatever cold gel he spread around felt kind of kinky, not to mention he was a doctor, so he fulfilled your mother’s marriage requirements which she made you memorize when you were thirteen—that a woman should marry a man who is twenty percent smarter than she is and that loves her ten percent more than she loves him— and every time your mom called you now she slipped in the fact that at your age (a young 27) she was already married and pregnant with your older brother Chris, and it didn’t help that every time you scrolled down your Facebook newsfeed, another one of your friends was engaged (as if you could afford another wedding present) or had posted another annoyingly cute photo of their baby being licked by the family dog, so you may have been husband hunting because you eventually want those things too; it’s just hard to find someone when you’re stuck in a room teaching snotty, pre-pubescent eleven-year-olds the difference between declarative and interrogative sentences, and when you finally get off work, you only have enough energy to mindlessly scroll through your Facebook with your mouth hanging open like a cow and sometimes you manage to pour a glass of wine and call for takeout; on Saturdays when you don’t change out of your pajamas, you don’t feel bad because there isn’t anyone to impress, except for your parents who want grandkids before they die and are relying on you as if it’s easy to go out and find “The One”; you were shocked when Kevin agreed to coffee, and when you told your parents you were seeing this guy, you made sure to mention he was a doctor, which made your Dad smile because he no longer had to worry about supporting you on your teacher salary, but then when your mom asked “What kind?

Because while there may be a #penis Friday on Twitter, in real life every day is about the vagina.

When one of your parents is a gynecologist, things can be a little … Now imagine having both of your parents looking at vaginas all day long. Anyway, the point of this article isn't to go into the sordid details of my childhood, but rather to commiserate with the other children of OB/GYNs who are floating around the world, loving their parents but slightly scared by what they heard at dinner the other night.

It’s not entirely a lie because you did meet him there…for your first date, that is.

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