There, a doctor applied light pressure to various areas of my abdomen; he had a hunch that it was appendicitis or ovarian cysts. He conducted a routine probing of my vagina in an ultrasound procedure, and I freaked out — not at the idea of having cysts, but at being probed. I had been diligently avoiding vaginal exams, despite being 23 (well past the recommended age for a first pap smear). I was uncomfortable with the idea of a doctor sticking something huge, plastic, and slathered with cold lubricant inside of me; the idea of something so rigid and foreign entering me made me nauseous. Despite this fear, I removed my pants and followed the doctor’s directions to scooch towards the end of the table. He came at me with the stick, and my vagina immediately clenched — closing off entry like a venus flytrap. I’m not kidding: Nothing was getting in there.