In a small doctor’s exam room at a mare’s health office, I sit up on the table, waiting for the gynecologist to come in. I can feel a bead of sweat trickling down my bright orange coat as I try to steady my breathing. My deep magenta eyes flicker from the door to my thick thighs, then up a little. I poke my pudgy belly, trying to coax a giggle out of myself as my finger sinks in like I'm poking dough. My hair gets in my face again, and I gently brush the lime green and dark green curtain away from my right eye. I can feel my tail swishing nervously, and my ears fall a bit. A familiar voice makes them prick right back up.
“Puzzling, sweetie, are you okay?”
Sitting by the door is my mother, Heart Guardian. She’s overweight like I am, but not as big. Her coat is kind of a diluted pinkish-orange, and it reminds me of an apricot-colored crayon. Her hair is short and curly, like a colt’s hair or something. It’s starting to get silvery streaks in it, either from age or stress, but the majority of her hair is a dark brown, like the chocolate she likes to eat. Her face is paralyzed on the right side because she has Bell’s palsy, but I can tell she’s trying to give me a reassuring smile. I can see the motherly concern in her eyes, making them shine like pale garnet gems. She gently takes my hand and squeezes it in hers. “I promise, it’s going to be okay,” she coos softly. “Every mare has to do this when they’re 21; it’s an important exam.”
I inhale through my nose, slowly letting go of her hand. “I know, Mom,” I respond nervously. “It’s just… what if I end up having a bad test result?” She slowly gets up, and I can see her face contort in pain as her bad knee acts up. In spite of the pain, she strokes my hair slowly.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she answers, kissing my cheek. “Right now, you just worry about not worrying. This will go quicker if you just relax. Now I gotta sit down again; my knee’s killing me.” She sits back down just as the door opens.
A tall, but still a little fleshy, mare steps in with a smile on her face. Her bright orange eyes sparkle like embers as she closes the door. Her chestnut brown hair falls around her face and shoulders beautifully; if I didn’t like my hair the way it is now I’d be jealous. She shakes my hand, and I see how golden yellow her coat is.
“Puzzling Insanity, I can’t believe you’re 21 already!” Doctor Gentle Care chirps happily. “Last time I saw you you were still in school; you’ve changed so much! I love your hair. It was shorter last time you were here, wasn’t it?”
I nod. “Yeah, it was more butch back then.” That makes her laugh. I see her looking at the longer side of my hair.
“May I feel your hair?” she asks. I nod my permission, and she gently rakes her fingers through the mask of silky hair, smiling. “It’s so healthy,” she marvels.
Heart Guardian smiles at me, proud of me for taking better care of myself. Gentle Care looks at her clipboard, then back at me. “So you’re here for a full exam, including a pap smear, correct?” I nod again, taking a deep breath. “Okay, just lay on your back and put your feet in the stirrups, and we’ll get started.” As I do so, she puts on a pair of gloves. She approaches me, helping me put my arms over my head. “You’re gonna feel my touch here,” the doctor warns, gently kneading my C-cup breasts and feeling for lumps. “So what I’m doing right now, you’re gonna wanna do once a month to get a feel for the normal texture of your breasts.”
“My breasts feel crepey sometimes,” I reply. “Isn’t that an old age thing?”
As she prepares the medical equipment, she looks back and smiles. “Oh that can sometimes be associated with weight gain and loss,” she answers back. I inadvertently make a duck face in response, and my mother bursts out laughing. “Was it the weight comment?” Gentle Care asks. My mom shakes her head. “No, you didn’t see the face she made when you said that,” she answers as the gynecologist sits down on a chair and peers between my legs.
Gentle Care again speaks up. "Just gonna take a look at your vulva here; you're gonna feel my touch again." I give her a thumbs-up as she gently spreads my pudgy marehood. "Well, you don't have a prominent clitoral hood or labia minora," she comments. I snort absentmindedly and my ears twitch. Even through the latex of her gloves, her fingers are cold. "But that's not a problem," she clarifies. "No two sets of genitalia are exactly the same, but all of them are beautiful in their own way. Looks like your clitoris just likes to hide behind your labia majora. No problem at all."
"That's a relief," I sigh. "I have a professional opinion to back up my claims." The doctor laughs and holds up a clear plastic speculum.
“Alright, you may feel some pressure,” she tells me as she slowly and carefully inserts the device into my vagina. My brain tells me to clamp down and force it out, but I breathe deeply and manage to stay relaxed. So far, I don’t feel too uncomfortable. The speculum opens up my tunnel with a few clicks, and she speaks again. “From what I can see in here, your reproductive system looks very healthy,” she informs me. “Your cervix is very smooth and your vaginal muscles are well-toned.” I beam with pride when she says this. “Now I’m gonna take a little brush and collect some cells from your cervix.”
Suddenly I feel a tickle, and I let out a high-pitched whinnying laugh as I struggle not to kick my mom or the doctor. “I understand,” Gentle Care says. “Cervical contact can be a little uncomfortable.” I smile and reply, “No, it’s not that; that brush tickled!”
Gentle Care replaces the brush with her fingers and places her other hand right under my belly. “No lumps in your ovaries,” she observes, flattening my fupa as she feels for abnormalities. “Now, last thing I wanna do before we’re done is test for any sexually transmitted infections. Chlamydia, gonorrhea, bacteria and viruses, trichomoniasis, all those nasties. I’m gonna take an internal swab; this’ll be a little cold.” I feel her take out the speculum, only to have a slight chill take its place as she thoroughly swabs the walls of my vagina with what I assume is a cotton swab. It only lasts a few seconds, then she takes my hand and helps me sit back up.
I can see her beaming with joy. “Well, Puzzling,” she says happily. “You are a healthy and beautiful mare.” She holds up a closed bottle. “These are your cells,” she explains. “We’re gonna check for any cancer or precancer, and if you don’t hear from me in two weeks, just assume you’re cancer-free.”
Suddenly, I remember something. “Oh, speaking of healthy,” I chirp. “I lost two pounds.” She shakes my hand. “That’s great,” she replies, her smile never fading. “Just remember to exercise and keep eating better, and I’m sure you’ll lose more. I'll let you put your clothes back on so you and your mom can go enjoy the rest of the day. It was nice seeing you again!”
"Thank you," I reply. "It was nice seeing you too." When the door closes, Mom hands me a bright blue pair of elastic jeans and a pitch black zip-up hoodie. I get the message: cover that shit up, will you?
Once I zip my hoodie back up, I slip a pair of navy blue tennis shoes over my feet and grab my wallet and white headphones. I follow my mom out the door, and we leave the clinic in the Tuesday rain.
Author's Note
Just a brief PSA for any young women on this site who haven't had this done yet: it is very important to have a pap smear regularly once you turn 21. Cervical cancer is often very aggressive, and it is almost always asymptomatic in the early stages. If you ever have anything unusual happening down there, like bleeding at the wrong time in your cycle, it is crucial that you call your gynecologist and get it checked out as soon as possible.
