Sawed-Off Vagina

Every time I go to the gynecologist I convince myself I have some STD... like West Nile Virus of the Vagina or something completely obscure. The blood typically drains from my face, and I think I'm going to die from some watermelon-sized tumor I have up my kooch, and the OBGYN is about to break the bad news.

Most people are hypochondriacs when it comes to the common cold. I grew up never going to the doctor for colds / virus’ the works… my dad, a psychiatrist, in his convincing tones never allowed our minds to worry about these passing afflictions. Even though he head-shrinks for a living, because he still had his “doctor bag” from medical school, we took his word as truth. And I still really do, when it comes to everything but the kooch.

You see, the Vagina isn’t something that the Pops knows too much about… he’s delivered a couple babies back in the training days, but vaginas are far from his head-trip expertise… and even if he knew a whole lot about vaginas, I soooo would NOT be talking to him about itchiness and discharge.

That leaves me inside my own head -- telling myself I’m never going to have sex again because I hate ever having to worry that anything is ever wrong with my kooch. Sometimes I just want to Saw off my Vagina because I have so much fucking anxiety about it. I wonder what vagina hypochondria is called… I mean there must be some term for it:

Obsessive Kooch Disorder (OKD)
Crazy Kooch Condition (CKC)
Pussy about Pussy (PAP)
In Transylvania, “Very Vorried Vagina” (VVV)

I mean the list could go on and on……….. So, why don’t I just not have sex until I’m madly in love? and well, fuck, I’m my best lover anyway… and really, if I’m not going to have biological children and if enjoy reading my books, why even bother with boys anyway? I think it’d be a beautiful thing if I could just be madly in love with myself, my fingers, and my vibrator for the rest of my life. This would be the cure – the cure of Very Vorried Vagina.

MiSS CuriouS always likes a good challenge… so there it is… the gauntlet has been set forth… let’s see how long I can last – how many trips to the OBGYN can I make without ever having sex with a man or woman ever again. How very exciting. Wow. What if I just shut that part of my life off completely? What if I just stopped obsessing about sex and love? What if I just -- was?

(This idea spawned from two things – the yearly freak-out trip to the OBGYN and a party conversation where folks were discussing the longest period of time they’ve gone without sex. They threw out 2 years – 3 years – 4 years… I threw out 19 years, but since then, it’s never been more than a year without fucking. Well, fuck me.)