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Friends, where do I even start? It was the morning of my annual gynecological appointment. Unlike many women, I don’t dread this day; in fact, I look forward to it. My doctor is one of my favorite people—he’s the one who helped bring my four kids into the world. Who wouldn’t appreciate that? The office staff is always friendly, making the experience comfortable and pleasant. I woke up feeling cheerful and ready to tackle the day.
I hopped in the shower, finally enjoying a moment of peace without any kids trailing behind me. I remembered to lock the door to keep any surprise visitors out. I shave my legs daily—it’s just something I do. This morning was no exception, but I had a brand new razor. As I was shaving, I got a bit too aggressive on my shin and ended up with a scene that would make even Hitchcock cringe—blood everywhere!
Once I finally finished up in the shower, I stepped out and started tending to the cut. I wiped away the blood, but it kept seeping. I needed to moisturize my legs since they tend to get dry, so I carefully worked around the wound. After getting the bleeding somewhat under control, I grabbed a generous piece of toilet paper to help with the mess. The lotion acted like glue, and before I knew it, the toilet paper was stuck on my leg—no one would know!
Oh, did I mention that I was wearing a bulky knee brace that cost a small fortune? No? Well, I am, and I’m not thrilled about it. I can’t wear my favorite pants or yoga capris; my options are limited to shorts and dresses since the brace needs to be in direct contact with my skin. Anyway, I put on my brace and a dress, fixed my hair, and applied my makeup before heading downstairs to kiss my husband and kids goodbye.
Upon arriving at the hospital, I met a friendly man in the elevator who was dressed in pajama pants due to swelling in his legs. I assured him it was no big deal. After getting off on the third floor, I encountered two pleasant people doing COVID screenings. I answered their questions, complimented one woman’s mask, and made my way to the office.
I walked in and was greeted by a cheerful nurse who handed me some paperwork. Then, I followed another nurse to the exam room where we chatted about our kids while she checked my blood pressure. After that, I undressed, removed my knee brace, and slipped into the gown. Then my doctor arrived.
It’s always a pleasure to see him. I’ve been his patient since I was 20 and have trusted him with my most personal health matters. He has a great sense of humor and always puts his patients at ease. He performed all the necessary exams—breast, stomach, pelvic, Pap smear, you name it. After a friendly chat, we wrapped up the appointment, and I was given paperwork for a mammogram before heading to the breast center.
I rode the elevator back down, wished the screeners a great day, and hopped in my car to drive to another building. After checking in with the COVID screeners there, I approached the breast center receptionist, who informed me they were fully booked, so I set up an appointment for another day before heading to my car.
As I walked toward my van, I caught a glimpse of something white out of the corner of my eye. Thinking it was trash blown by the rainstorm we were having, I looked down and, to my utter horror, realized it was toilet paper trailing from my leg! Not just a small bit, but a substantial amount. I had forgotten to take it off after dressing my wound!
In the span of about 2.5 hours, I had interacted with 14 different people, and not one of them said a word about my toilet paper situation. They might have noticed, but chose to stay silent. I mean, I was in the stirrups—my shin was literally in my doctor’s face! I can only imagine the laughs that ensued once I left.
Let’s be real though; once I noticed it, I couldn’t unsee it. It was massive! I didn’t run to my car in embarrassment; I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture instead. Then, I jumped onto my family group chat to share my blunder. Why not? Fourteen people had already seen it, so I decided to share the story on social media too.
Some people might be mortified and seek a new gynecologist after such an incident, but I plan to send a link to this story to my healthcare provider as soon as it’s published. However, I might also consider finding an aesthetician who specializes in waxing. Or maybe I’ll just invest in some dull razors. Whatever works!
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In summary, my annual OB-GYN visit took an unexpected turn when I discovered I had toilet paper trailing from my leg after a minor shaving mishap. Despite the embarrassment, I decided to share my story rather than hide it. Life is too short not to laugh at our blunders.
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