Today's blog is about my doctor's visit that ended with a trip to Spencers for a vibrator. Seriously. But it's not what you think.

I don’t have any questions today. Shocking! But I wanted to post something on my blog to keep a weekly rhythm. Since I haven't written a thing all day, I thought I'd humor you with my interesting doctor experience. I'd use the story in one of my books, but I don't write adult novels and, as you will see, this is not something that would work in a ya book.

So . . . it's eleven in the morning, and my first time seeing this doctor. My dental hygienist gave me his name after raving about him. (Yes, I've master the art of speaking around a spit sucker hanging from the corner of my mouth while my teeth are being polished).  

Anyway, I'm at his office for some Sculptra. The injectable is supposed to be a miracle anti-ager. When he comes at me with a fluid-filled syringe, I close my eyes. Everything hurts less when you're not looking. I wait anxiously to feel the prick of tiny needles about my face. Seven jabs later, I let out a breath of relief. I have a high tolerance for pain but think the procedure was easy and can't wait to see the results.

I open my eyes to the back of the doctor's white coat and watch as he digs through a drawer. He retrieves something and then a vibrating sound fills the air. When he turns around, I see a 7 inch hot pink wand that looks and sounds an awful lot like a vibrator.


I stare, trying not to reveal my shock, but can't keep my eyebrows from going up when his assistant pulls something rubbery over the tip. At that moment my face must have revealed my thoughts, Is that what I think it is? because the assistant shoots me a smile and a confirming nod as she snaps the rubber in place.

It's not a dildo I tell myself, or a rubber. It can't be. Condoms are clear and that looks . . . cloudy. But I'm not about to ask if it's either of those. If it isn't (though I really think it is) what would they think of me? Dirty mind? Pervy girl? 

I'm nervous, having no idea what they are planning to do with the pink-vibrating-thingy-majigger. I cross one leg over the other and scan the room for my purse. Where had I set it? The counter behind me? The chair in the corner?


I spot it hanging on a hook near the door, when the doctor steps to me pink-pulsating-wand in hand. He lifts it to my cheek and smoothes the skin from my mouth to my temple. The sensation is surprisingly nice, and I can't help but relax. Wow.

As the doctor continues to run my new favorite contraption (albeit a vibrator or fun cosmetic device) across my face, turning my muscles to a jello, I will up the courage to ask, "What is that?"


His assistant takes over and confirms my suspicion. "It's a vibrator. You can get it at Spencers. We've found it's highly effective in smoothing the Sculptra, leaving the patient with a more flawless appearance. It comes in different colors."

She caresses my tender skin a few times then hands me a mirror. My face looks ten years younger and feels amazing. She tells me I will have to massage my face twice a day for fifteen minutes for optimal appearance. Then she informs that I can get a less effective massager at Walgreens, but explains it's harder to maneuver since the tip isn't soft or rounded like the handy-dandy-pink-oscillator.

I christen it the Miracle Wand and decide, then and there, I have to have one.  I leave and go straight to Spencers to purchase the best face smoother ever. When I step up to the sales associate, a young male, I am suddenly self-conscious. I quickly explain the "didlo . . . err . . . vibrator is for my face. Doctor recommended." His pierced lip curves into a dubious grin. Then he asks if I need batteries. When I decline, stating that I have plenty at home, he hands me my receipt and says, "Have a nice night."  

So there you have it. My mortifying, yet beautifying afternoon. If you have an experience that is too good to keep to yourself, no matter how huminliating, do share. I love a good laugh.