Women are not unicorns

— So what, did you move after your husband? The mark sheet is good, yes. But there are no places. Either you pay for your course, or on a budget, but again for the fourth.

— I can't pay. I'm on a budget. (Here, of course, I was cunning, Vladislav offered help, I did not want to accept). Take me to the fifth year.

— I can not. Not my whim. There are no seats.

This stubborn sheep, may he hear my words, did not agree, even though I knocked on the threshold of the institute every day for a month.

And then I gave up, changed my mind and quit.

In addition, I then read an incredible book that illuminated my mind, clouded by medicine, and decided not to be a doctor quite consciously.

This is not Vladislav's decision, girls. It was I who drove myself into circumstances that, like a syringe, pushed me to new horizons.

Not once in all these years have I regretted not having a medical degree, just as I don’t regret seven years of education. This knowledge helps me in life, but does not keep me within limits, which is great.

If the situation had been the same with the Faculty of Law or Economics, the solution would have been the same; I found my way in a different way.

Now I am already an experienced leader, online coach, writer, actress, and I have only those areas of activity ahead of me that I want to do.

Do you know how I got into medicine in the first place? Coin. Yes, that's right, a coin.

I dreamed of enrolling in theater, but the eleventh grade was only in my seventeenth year, so my parents said that they would not let me go to St. Petersburg until I came of age. I was indignant, but agreed.

I wanted to go somewhere where I could while away a couple of years and not waste my time. You know, serve your sentence with benefit.

After a lot of research, I eliminated almost everything except training to become a midwife and a lawyer. Both here and there for three years, it was never less. For a long time, I hoped to get a minimum education, appease my elderly parents, and then conquer the world.

That year, testing was just introduced, thanks to which it was possible not to take entrance exams. And voila, thanks to my school scores, I passed, was admitted, and were ready to be accepted into both educational institutions.

Well, at that time I did not yet understand the value and importance of the knowledge that I would receive, so I did not seriously approach the issue of choice.

The coin decided for me.

“Oh, medical. Great. So, I’ll study here.”

How did the medical help (as I realized later) help me. Knowledge of the anatomy of the genital organs. Knowing where the clitoris is and what it can do. Complete knowledge of the entire reproductive system of women and men. Menstrual cycle. Which hormones affect what? Diseases of the genitourinary system, what are the symptoms, how to treat, diagnose and how to prevent.

Pelvic floor muscles: what they can strengthen and how. Why are there painful periods? Why is sex painful? How to examine your genitals for size and prolapse. How to assess muscle tone.

How to check your breasts for tumors. What affects its elasticity?

How to cope with PMS.

Contraception and everything about it. And so on.

Three years of training to become a midwife were some of the coolest, I learned about myself as a woman. Then I clearly decided that I was in no hurry to get pregnant and give birth, although before that I had already thought about having children, for example, at twenty-five.

There in college, for the first time in the light of day, I examined and touched the penis, although it was a dummy, which needed a catheter, but I had to go through a lot of embarrassment.

He's such a nasty little guy with no erection. How do you insert a tube into an erect penis? No way. Therefore, anatomists decided to make a dummy closer to reality. Well, at least they would have made it a bigger size to please the students. They also added these stupid hairs to make it look more natural.

The second time I had to come into contact with the penis (that’s the correct way to say it in medical terms) was in an emergency hospital. We were taken through the wards and forced to do a full examination of the patients in all hard-to-reach places, including. I put on gloves, and my partner and I began to study the homeless man.

Yes, an alcoholic from the street. Washed, but still with the most terrible aroma, because no one will cure his teeth under insurance. We handled him delicately. And we had almost finished studying the spots on the skin when the professor came in:

— What are you talking about here?

— We're done.

— Not true. Undress him. And examine all PARTS of his body.

He emphasized the word “parts” in such a way as not to confuse us even more by pronouncing “penis” to the entire men’s ward.

The patient took off his family books and I once again looked pitifully at the elderly teacher.

— Forward! — he commanded.

I carefully took its wrinkled pod and lifted it up. And there… On his scrotum…