Okay. Bottom line: won't know anything until follow-up with gyno on Friday.
But, I need to dump my concerns. I don't want to take it out on my loved ones. Dumping here.
Poop alert. Grossness. Avert your eyes. Gross female things discussed here.
You have been warned.
I realize doctors have to order tests to help them diagnose stuff. I realize they need to rule things out. Like cancer. I should be grateful. But, it oughta be a sign when the waiting room furniture is shabby, stuffing poking out the arms of the couch. And when I show up on time for an appointment and get to cool my heels for 30 minutes because they are running behind---and sonograms is all they do this day---that was my second sign.
So when the tech lady greeted me with: "you know, I might not be able to see anything on the sonogram because your are fat..." I should have turned around and left right then. But, it took me a few moments to process what she was saying. Was this a warning? Did she think I WANTED this procedure? Who was she kidding? The doctor ordered this test. Do people walkin in off the street and want one? When I asked if she wanted me to go elsewhere or reschedule, she said no, but she needed to give me a warning, that whatever it was they were looking for, obese people don't sonogram well. Okay. I'll come back when I am thin---but wait, isn't this a gynocologists office?? with a waiting room full of fat pregnant ladies??? I did not see a thin butt in the waiting room. Sonograms are usually done on the belly for happy, curious women wanting to know if they baby is okay. Maybe the tech was having a bad day. Maybe she prefers happy pregnant ladies to sullen, old, fat, gray haired ladies.
Then she greases up this two foot long probe with KY jelly, and puts a CONDOM on it. Lovely. I asked, "you put a condom on the wand?" And she snorted, "have to cover it with SOMETHING." "Duh". Oh, good. I listen to Dr. Laura---I did not think condoms protected you one hundred percent. And are condoms sterile?? Then she shoves this thing way up---and she must think fat people are also hollow. And with one hand on her wand, and the other hand clicking away on her machine recording images on the screen, she proceeds to see if the wand can see my ear canals. She asked what my "problem" was as she had not a clue what she was suppose to be looking for. Surely, on my chart somewhere---but, I replied that I had this period that lasted two months and Dr. B was ruling out stuff. Fibroids? I asked, maybe?
"That wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked. I decided to think about this for a while.
Now get this, naked from the waist down, smeared with jelly, she suggests I walk across the hall to clean up. I paid and left. She said was able to see what she needed to in the uterus after all. So, the gamble paid off. Hopefully. We will find out on Friday, won't we. All the blood tests, and results from this sonogram. Can't wait.
Damn. I had quit spotting for about a week, but thanks to techie and her magic wand, I am seeing blood clots again. I feel dirty. Raped. Violated. And I paid for this. Does that make me a hooker? The doctor said I need a vaginal sonogram, so I thought I was just obeying instructions. I feel stupid. And I wonder who she used the wand on last? Someone with aids? Maybe an STD? I did not see her wash it. She thinks condoms are enough.
When I put my pants back on, I noticed I had been sporting a beautiful grease smear in black on the front of my beige pants! I had picked up the van my husband usually drives from the repair shop, and I guess the steering wheel was dirty from the oil change and brake job and transmission leak fix, and I marked my pants. A marked woman. Lovely. All I need is a clown nose... I had to smile. That techie is not worth being angry about. What a bitch. I feel sorry for her children, if she has any. Still wish I had walked out, because it is getting to be a habit with me---refusing to take abuse from nurses and techies and rude people. But, I just want to get this all over with. Once we rule out cancer, we can get on with menopause.
I consider myself a private person. Only my husband is allowed in certain parts of my body. I did not even get the techie lady's name.
I took a shower, but...
Time for another bath. With clorox.