It was a surprisingly pleasant experience lying feet propped up in oven mits, at least as far as ob-gyn experiences go. Maybe because there was nuthin’ going on and no such possibility. Guess every other time I was either paranoid about something-or-other or too young to be paranoid about anything but those tongs. She kept asking if I had concerns. Nope, just here because I’m supposed to be, once a year, like everybody else. Plus brochure-re-educated myself during the wait. She had an expression of unexpected satisfaction, like I’d done something right. Think I’ll make her my primary care physician.