It was sort of a blind date actually. It's not typical to know, with perfect certainty, how a blind date will go, but I knew exactly how this one would turn out.
Oh all right. It wasn't a date so much as a sonogram. But you know, I like to see a silver lining if possible. And those of you who've known me through my black years know that of all the oddities I've written that last sentence is probably the oddest. Who am I again?
Don't worry, I'll sound a lot more familiar as you read on... if you read on that is.
As I've mentioned I've been hit with some bad-assed anemia of late. Caused by having some... oh, let's just put it out there and call it what it is: girly plumbing problems. Isn't that the medical term? Of course it is. (I know my friend Lori is laughing now). Psychic and a medical expert, that's me. So these plumbing problems mean I have been having a bunch of tests and procedures (Wheee!) Tuesday was the fabulous trans-vaginal sonogram. Oh let me tell you, you haven't lived until you've had one of these. (Sorry, fellas, but this is only for the ladies .)
I knew exactly what to expect because this is the fourth time I've had one of these fun little procedures. Yup. Apparently they went cheap with my plumbing to begin with - should have gone with the copper. It costs money. It costs money because it saves money. Apparently I have bronze... or maybe aluminum. (I could speak in Moonstruck quotes all day long.) So when my doctor said she wanted me to have this sonogram all I could think was: YESSSSSSSSSSS! Because then I would get to use one of my all-time favorite lines - my own, not a Moonstruck quote.
Let's back up. The first time I had this procedure I was a little nervous - as you are when you're having a test you are unfamiliar with. Luckily I wasn't scared, just slightly apprehensive. When I get like this I start gabbing away in an attempt, sometimes desperately, but usually successfully, to make the doctor or technician laugh. I figure if you make people laugh they appreciate it and then they'll be kinder to you. Trust me, you want them to be kind to you when they're inserting things into your body in a clinical setting.
The lowdown on the trans-v sono (hey, we're buds, I can use a nickname here) is that you strip from the waist down, put on a dandy little hospital johnny (usually a pretty color - Tuesday's was hot pink - to make you feel special and girly), then sit in a waiting room until someone comes to get you. You have nothing but a key to a locker where your clothes and belongings are (hopefully) safely ensconced and you feel a little awkward sitting around with an array of other women all wearing the same outfit. The urge to re-enact Lucy and Ethel singing Friendship while tearing flowers off their matching gowns is strong. But you resist. After all, you aren't wearing any undies... if that pink gown gets torn off things could get really awkward. So you restrain yourselves and try to ignore that you look like some absurdist version of The Supremes.
Then someone calls your name. Oh hurray! My turn! And you follow her to a dimly lit room (so the tech can see the sono screen more easily) where you lay on a table. The place I used to go to was just an ordinary table and very user-friendly. This new place my doctor is using has the traditional Gyn-table. Feet in the stirrups ladies. Giddy-up.
They drape you with the always comfy paper table cloth (for your privacy) and then the fun really begins. You lay there watching some strange woman dressing a sonogram probe that bears a suspicious resemblance to a dildo with a condom and then lubing it up with a pint of K-Y jelly. The fact that you are with a total stranger, in a small locked room, feet up, draped, the lights are dimmed and condoms are making appearances... well... you know it just has that air of a 'date' to it, don't you think?
So now you have the scene. It gets better. (it would have to, right?)
Once the electronic Mr. Happy is dressed and drippy the technician offers you a choice:
Would you like to insert this or would you like me to do it for you.HELLO? The first time I was having the test my response to this question was exactly the same as it will always be:
If I wanted to do this myself, I could have stayed home with a glass of wine and the Barry White records playing. YOU insert it, it's what I'm paying you for!Now the first couple of times I had this test done the technician had a wickedly good sense of humor and she laughed and laughed. I was very pleased with myself and the test went much more pleasantly for BOTH of us after that. When it was over she was leaving the room so I could change in privacy (hilarious given how 'close' we'd been only moments before) I sat up on the table, leaning seductively on one arm and called out in my sweetest, neediest, one-night standy-ish voice "Call ME??"
The tech lost it. I was very, very proud.
The next time I went for this test at the same facility my Tech was at the reception desk when I was signing in. I looked at her and deadpanned "What was I just a one-night stand to you?" She almost choked on her egg salad sandwich and roared with laughter. She nodded to the other women working with her and indicating me said, "that's her, that's the 'call me' girl!" Well, apparently I'd made their day and then some. Needless to say my experiences there were always funny, if not actually 'fun'.
But this new place. OY. Crack a freakin' grin ladies! GEEEEZ. The first time I tried the first line and it went over like a lead balloon with an anvil attached. The second time I didn't even try as Miss Stick-up-her-ass technician was too busy asking me cryptic questions about my periods to even attempt humor. Bee-otch. Just do the damned test and let me go home. If feel so ... dirty.
Clearly my last two 'dates' were bores. I can only hope that should I need this test done again that I will meet my 'Princess Charming' (as it were) who has a goddamned sense of humor. I mean seriously, people - how can you not?