At Least Get to Know Me Before You Stick Me With That Thing

Last weekend, my friend Lainey was visiting and we went to lunch so we could brag about our kids (hers is a Mathlete and mine is working on his professional soccer career), complain about our (lovable) husbands and lament about how old we're getting (we've been friends since high school).



Lainey is in the medical field so I always like the regale her with my tales of aches and pains and crappy doctor's visits.  When we met for lunch I'd been to my gynecologist's office the day before to have an ultrasound.



Not your typical drink 80 ounces of water until your bladder is going to burst so we can push on your bladder and see if we can make you pee yourself while we stare at a dark and blurry screen with shapes I can't tell what's heads or tails (literally).



Nope.  I got the pleasure of having a transvaginal ultrasound.  For those of you who haven't been lucky enough to have one, it's a real treat and I think you should request one the next time you visit your gyno.



Who wouldn't want this thing shoved up her hooha?





The least they could do is make vibrate while it takes the pictures.



I arrived at the doctor's office with my bladder full to bursting and the tech said, "Oh you can empty.  We're doing something else."



I had no idea what that meant, but I was grateful I could "empty," because I'm not as good at holding it anymore.  I emptied and then joined her in the ultrasound room.



"Take off all your bottoms and sit on the table, bottom hanging off the edge, feet in stirrups."



WTF?  "Uhh . . . I'm supposed to have an ultrasound," I said.



"Yes, we'll use the wand."



The wand.  More like the foot long probe that could only be designed by a man.  I just read on a website where it said it was similar in size and shape to a "tampon."  Maybe I use itty bitty tampons, but this seems a bit bigger than a tampon.







I followed her instructions and told her I was ready.  I had a disposable sheet draped over my legs.  The tech said, "OK, I'm going to hand the wand to you and I'm going to need you to insert it."



I reached down and she handed that thing to me lubed end first.  I got a handful of condom (yup, they put a condom on it - NOT ribbed for my pleasure) and lube.  I inserted it and tried to go to my happy place while she jabbed and scraped and rammed me.



When I told Lainey the story, she kept nodding and saying "I know!" and "What the fuck am I paying them for if I have to insert it myself???"



When I was done, she told me I was lucky that my only drama was some prodding and jabbing in my lady bits, because she heard about a patient who was accidentally poked in the pooper - and she never said boo.