Thursday, March 4, 2010
TMI Thursday is sponsored by Lilu at Livitluvit. It's where we share a completely tasteless, humiliating story about our self or someone else for everyone to enjoy or not! Click the button to read more TMI stories.
My gynecologist wanted me to get an ultrasound for some minor problems I had been experiencing. This meant that I had to drink 24 ounces of water right before my visit so I could go in with a full bladder. This is not fun. This is even worse when you are pregnant, WHICH I AM NOT, but it's uncomfortable nonetheless.
I went into the doctor's office and tried to act nonchalant when actually any minute I felt I was going to pee in my pants. I tried to focus on the TV in the waiting room and what should come on but a Brita water filter commercial.
It showed clear, running water, people drinking water, people pouring water, Water, Water, Water. I swear a few drops escaped in my lower half, but those old Kegel muscles kicked in and I shut that dam down.
Finally my name was called and I was led to a darkened room in the back. I put my coat and purse on the chair, took off my shoes and lay down on the table.
The young woman pulled my sweater up a little and my pants down some and tucked a towel in my waistband. She put gel on my belly and touched the wand to my skin. She began to roll the wand back and forth with one hand, and typed on the computer with the other hand.
The woman, let's call her "Mary", did an awful lot of sighing. I didn't know why. Was it because my stomach was not flat and taut? Get over it! So she had to roll the wand over hills and crevices! Deal with it! Meanwhile, Mary was pushing so hard on my bladder that I was praying, "Please, God, don't let me pee. Don't let me pee."
Just an aside here. Do you think God thinks my "pee" prayer is just as important as someone who's on a plane that's going down and praying for it not to crash? Just wondering - you know - God's not supposed to show favoritism and all that.
Then Mary said what I wanted her to say:
"You can go to the bathroom now."
(Of course, not on the table but in the bathroom.)
Before I went skipping off, Mary said what I DIDN'T want to hear.
"Your doctor ordered an internal ultrasound, too, so take off all your clothes from the waist down, put on a gown, and come back in."
Great! Now it was time to have sex with a machine.
I re-entered the room wearing a delightful gown and crawled back on the table. Mary used a different "wand". It's longer and more slender. She slid what looked like a condom on it.
I've had these internal ultrasounds before, and each time the technician handed the wand to me and said, "Please insert it." This one thought she'd take a "stab" at it. Literally. She missed. Yeah. Sooo. I grabbed it from her and did it myself.
Well, it seemed Mary couldn't find her way around the outside, let alone the inside of my uterus. She had to call in her supervisor for help. So then I had TWO technicians between my legs whispering, pushing on the wand, click-ckicking on the computer.
"What's the matter?" I piped up. "Can't you find my right ovary?"
"Oh no," replied Tech #2, "I've got it. I'm measuring it right now."
Whatever the hold up was, I was in there for an hour, of which half of that I had a wand up my, well, you know. That's all I'm saying is, the least they could have done was lit candles and introduced themselves first, and after all was said and done, I was dying for a cigarette.