Say Ahhhhh: Drive-Thru Pap Smears in the COVID era
“They stick a swab so far up your nose, I felt like it was going into the back of my eye,” one said, but when free drive-through testing was offered in my little Florida beach town I went. I can pinch a penny until Lincoln starts crying and if something is free, I’m going to get one, even if it means being skewered like a corn dog.
The test was mildly irritating. You tilt your head back and they do, indeed, poke a swab up your snoot farther than you’d expect it to go. It felt like I’d been bike riding and got ladybug stuck up my nose, a sensation which lasted about 45 minutes after the actual sticking. It wasn’t as bad as I anticipated, but I’d anticipated getting my eyeballs yoinked out through my nostrils. Anything else was emotional found money.
What left a more lasting impression than the test was the joy of drive-through medical service. Since I had pre-registered I sat in the comfort of my car with my friend, which was exponentially better than the doctor’s office waiting room with its throngs of people who are coughing, pissed or have insurance issues that would make MC Escher rub his eyes and leave the room. Getting ram-rodded like a rotisserie chicken was no biggie because I didn’t have to leave my bucket seat.
How things will change in The Scared New World of COVID-19 is a hot topic and, along with mask-wearing and working at home, drive-through medicine should be on the “Let’s keep doing this” list. Let’s start with the Pap smear.
The whole idea of such an intimate procedure happening in a car isn’t far fetched if you’ve ever had car sex. It’s remarkable how otherwise doughy, awkward adults can undress and get into yogic positions when the hormones move them. I drove a pint-sized Toyota Corolla throughout college and no one ever noticed full sets of footprints on the ceiling. If we can do that we can do this. It’s just going to be motivated by the opposite desire, that of far, far less togetherness.
Aside from the hilarity of legs sticking out of car windows in the bright sunlight of a summer day, there’s a lot of pluses to the drive-thru gyno visit. Eliminating the office and its attendant costs of rent, furniture and exam room refrigeration should save doctors a ton of money and the cost of an office visit should drop like a pair of pants after all the wine. Your next Pap should cost about the same as an airport bagel, so $42 and change. Wave ciao to the humiliating paper gown and to shivering six pounds off in an exam room where they keep you at the same temperature as cream cheese until you toes turn blue and your phone battery icon turns red. You’re pre-registered, so questions like “Are you sexually active?” and any mournful math you have to do wondering “How long ago counts as ‘active’? can be done in the solitude of your own room.
I envision a crime-scene type tent you can drive your car into for privacy. Of course it would be better to have a pick up truck, hatchback, motorcycle or any vehicle where you can get your crotch
It is true that starting with Pap smears might be a leap, but all innovations seem crazy until they’re common. If you’d been able to go back to the 1940’s and tell someone that in 80 years people would watch movies on their phones while out at a cafe they’d have smiled, nodded and called the police. You might have ended up with that lobotomy. The drive-through gyno is going to happen and I'm getting a convertible. You know, just in case.
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