Monday, January 5, 2009
Who gave my cervix voting rights?
Okay...let me preface this post by saying if you are a boy, you probably will squirm at some of the lingo and should stop reading now. Unless you are my husband John. Then you should totally read.
So, today was the HSG--as preliminary work-up for the IVF. I won't lie...I wasn't looking forward to it, as I have already had a few of these and know from experience that they are about as much fun as filling cavities. Actually, filling cavities isn't that bad--at least at the dentist you have a tv. I had to drive 2 hours (by myself as John had to go back to Yuma for God-knows-how-long) to get there and once there, that lovin' feeling came back. Ha ha. Luckily for me, the endocrinologist and the tech were jolly and that's always a good thing when you are about to show them your goods. After "Hi, how are you today?" (Ummm...you're about to play hide-n-go seek with my innards--I'm FABULOUS, and thanks so much for asking) the next step she took was to begin rooting around inside with all sorts of little wiry tubes, shots of dyes and other assorted lovelies. For which, I am well prepared, mind you.
Then, after a few minutes (which seem like ETERNITY), "Hmmm..."
"Oh, nothing, it's just your cervix isn't cooperating..." (And then she whispers a few things in doctor jargon to the tech) "But don't worry, we have lots of different catheters."
Oh, goody. I was worried we were going to just stick to the one and call it a day.
And, who gave my cervix the right to be uncooperative? John has always made jokes about me having "one heckuva gatekeeper" and apparently, my bossy little cervix wanted to get some game time too.
Long story short, finally the whatever worked and the dye went through everywhere it was supposed to and all looked great. And, according to the doctor, "You did really well, actually." ACTUALLY? What is that supposed to mean? Is that actually considering it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be or actually considering I was a little (okay, A LOT. LOT) tense when I walked in or actually considering I was by myself and being an awfully good sport about this all? (I believe the last one, by the way.) Actually, I don't really care. It's done. Again.
But, for the record, the next time any man gives ANY HINT about the pressure that goes with 'being put on the spot' for 'his' portion of the fertility work-ups/treatments, I think I may drop kick him.
And I think my cervix would vote in agreement.