There have been quite a few revelations over the past week about what ACTUALLY happened in my life a year ago … when I met DD … as opposed to what I blogged was happening (see Secret Messages).
This might be the strangest.
DD and I had been texting each other like crazed, dopamined animals for three days when my appointment to have an IUD inserted arrived.
The IUD insertion had nothing to do with meeting DD, it just happened to coincide with it. I’d decided it was worth trying an IUD to solve my down-there problems before resorting to muffler-removal-through-tailpipe surgery.
I was a bit terrified about having the IUD inserted because I’d been told all these horror stories by people about how awful it could be.
So DD “virtually” held my hand via text message while I was in the waiting room, which was a bit bizarre considering he’d only met me once in a suburban pub for an hour.
DD finally got a brief respite from the mad redhead he’d only just met on RSVP when I was ushered into the gyno’s office.
Surprisingly, the procedure itself was uncomfortable rather than painful. A bit like a Pap smear but longer, because the gyno had a bit of trouble getting past my casarean scarring, plus my womb is (apparently) on a funny angle.
Although, it was quite surreal to have a cheery gyno’s head peering up from between my thighs, discussing how he hoped the insertion was going well because he’d hate to get a negative review on my blog.
Later that day, DD hopped on a plane to the United States for some intense cross-Pacific texting with me for the next 10 days … and I popped into the city to get my hair coloured. The lucky bastard got upgraded to First Class, too. Sent me a smug picture of himself with a glass of champagne, which I immediately forwarded to my mother for her verdict on the bloke I’d just met.
Being a huge fan of champagne and professional types with grey hair, Mum was most impressed.
As for the whole IUD thing, it turned out to be a complete disaster. I’d been thinking it would be the answer to all my problems, but my body didn’t like it AT ALL.
Three months of misery followed – just what you need when you’re embarking on your first relationship post-separation from your partner of 23 years – until the fateful night my uterus decided enough was enough and expelled the IUD in a gory, Friday 13th manner.
DD and I texted our way through that little drama too, as I contemplated my own mortality.
And then DD got to hold my hand again, this time in real life, when he took me to the gyno so we could discuss Plan B.
I still wasn’t keen on the muffler-through-tailpipe option, so we chose womb razing under general anaesthetic in hospital … with the ex dropping me off and DD picking me up …
It’s been fun times for DD dating me. Fun times.
Too much information?
Song of the day: The Beatles “I wanna hold your hand”