Since it appears I’m destined to live a life less ordinary, I had a pelvic ultrasound this week.
My doctor neglected to mention it would be performed in two stages: first externally, then internally. If I’d known I’d have taken a little more care with my personal landscaping that morning.
When the sonographer outlined the intimate situation that was about to unfold, my shoulders sagged. Oh god. No.
And I know this shouldn’t be the worst part, but he was really young and really cute. Really young, really cute sonographers should be banned. They should become podiatrists or something instead.
I don’t think it would be nearly so embarrassing to have a middle-aged woman wave a huge wand thing at me.
I had to discuss lots of awkward things with the young, cute sonographer pre-wand. Then he did the external ultrasound, which was a little unpleasant as they make you drink a litre of water first then press really hard on your bladder.
Then I had to sign a consent form for the internal ultrasound. And once it started I could understand why. It’s a VERY intimate procedure.
The wand is VERY long. And young, cute sonographer’s hand rests on your naked inner thigh in extremely close proximity to your clacker. Blokes reading this will probably think phwoar. But there’s nothing phwoar about it.
The sonographer also informed me the procedure could take up to 15 minutes, depending on how much I talked. Usually it only takes about 5 to 10 minutes, but going on how much I talked during the external procedure he felt he needed to build in more time.
I do talk rather a lot these says. And particularly when I am nervous because cute, young doctors are poking things up my clacker. But I went very quiet during the internal examination because it was uncomfortable and awkward and I’d have died of embarassment if I’d given it much thought, so I focused intently on the monitor instead, despite having absolutely no idea what I was looking at.
It turns out there IS a problem. I have to go to the doctor on Friday for a chat. Google tells me it’s probably not serious and probably won’t require surgery.
Although my mother has cheerfully informed me it’s quite routine to get your uterus whipped out these days and it’d be a blessing to be rid of it. Thanks Mum.
But I think it would be very unkind of the universe to visit surgery on me right now.
Very unkind of the universe! And I know what you mean, there is nothing phwoar about that examination. The fact he was cute and young makes it sooooo much worse. At my last internal exam I talked awkwardly about Scandinavian interior design, thanks to the very interesting mobile my middle-aged, male gynaecologist had thoughtfully hung just above the exam table.
Mind you, Alex, having two babies does make you a little more blasé about it.