I have a over a thousand dollars worth of fake vaginas in the trunk of my car right now. I spent an hour in the Birthing Suites yesterday scrounging all the fake cervixes and lady bit models I could find. I don't care what those lesbians say in those Vagina Monologues, they are not beautiful. They're a disaster. Nothing but pain and misery comes from them.
Not only did I have to face the indignity of looking for fake vaginas but I also had to walk the long way back from the Birthing Suites to my department in a very busy hospital. Try sitting in an elevator with a model of a very realistic bottom portion of a woman. You'll get stares. It didn't help that they were selling cookies, because my boss, whom I was helping, decided to pick up some fresh cookies for the department. There I sat at the cookie kiosk with all the unpleasantness.
What disturbs me the most is that now I'm desensitized to it. I was trying to get one of the models out of a bag and wasn't getting any leverage, so I stuck my whole hand up the va-jay-jay grabbed the baby inside the womb and used it as a class three lever to shove the model out of the bag. They don't teach you that at medical school, kids. They don't even teach that at serial killer school.
Things aren't so bad though. The reason why I have to cart around a bucket full of vulvas is because we're having a procedure fair at the medical school. A procedure fair is a lot like summer camp. We get to show medical students how to suture pig's feet (severed), and we get to put casts on each other and saw them off. It's like medical arts and crafts. And during this time I get to hit on girls who are better than me, but don't know it yet. I get to pretend I'm someone important.
Maybe this year I can convince them I'm a doctor.