Wednesday, August 18, 2004

with jesus at my feet

I survived my HSG. Thank goodness for Mexico and its cheap, powerful, available-over-the-counter pain medications. I don't know what it is that I took, but it was strong. The kind of strong where you can't control the smile on your face. The kind of strong where taking money out from the ATM seems an insurmountable task. The kind of strong where you finally get why people in Mexico seem to walk so slooooowly down the sidewalk- they're all on this medication and are afraid to lose control of their legs and feet. I'm sure I lost more than a few brain cells, but it was worth it. The cramping was minor. Nothing I couldn't handle. Nowhere near the worst pain I've ever been in.

I was definitely worried about going for the HSG. I'd read one too many horror stories on the message boards I frequent. Really, for me at least, the worst part was the anticipation. I managed to work myself up into a sweat just laying on that table waiting for the doctor to come in. I also made the mistake of watching the nurse lay out all of the instruments on the little side table. Not a single one of them looked as though it belonged in this millenium. Everything was sharp, metal, pointy. Nothing I'd normally allow anywhere near my vagina.

Because this is Mexico, there was a big painting of Jesus near my feet. He was holding a heart that seemed to be on fire. I think the painting was meant to give one comfort, but the fact that Jesus had a straight-on view of my cervix was more than a little unsettling. That, and the creepy smile on His face. Like He enjoyed it? Looking at the private parts of vulnerable women? Come on! Don't you have some miracles to perform? Go turn some water into wine or something. I'll need a drink when this is all over.

The whole thing lasted a bit longer than I expected. The doctor was writing up his little report in between takes of my insides. I'm not sure if that's how they usually do it, but if it is, I'd recommend taking the speculum and canula OUT of the patient before taking the time to write up your findings. It was: a little dye, take the picture, look at the film, type, type type. More dye, take another picture, look at the film, type, type, type. Turn me on my side, more dye, take another picture, look at the film, type, type ,type.

If your doctor doesn't do it that way, I'm not sure if I want to hear about it. Maybe, because then I'll go to your place the next time. But maybe not, because its already over and there's nothing I can do about it except get mad and feel a little creepy.

The good news is that everything down there seems to be in the right place. I do have a tiny, little flebolito on the left side, but the doctor thought that was nothing to worry about. Since I have no idea what a flebolito is, I'm remarkably calm about its possible implications on my fertility. My tubes are clear, my ovaries are small and cute. I could spend all day looking at my films. I'm so proud.

So what's my next task on this road to conception? I'm ready for anything. I've got my not-quite-full box of painkillers and Jesus at my feet.

10 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Whew. Glad that's over.

I don't know what a "flebito" is either. Hmm.

Julia

7:10 AM  
Blogger Indigo Wolf said...

Well my nerdy ass decided to find out what flebolito is so here's a little exerpt I found from Google's translation of the site: http://www.arturomahiques.com/calcicicaciones_de_tejidos_blandos.htm

" For example, the venous trombosis considérese. When this happens around a venous valve, the resulting calcification (or the osificación) is round, dense, and sometimes laminated, and flebolito is called. These normally see in the venous complex plexo of pelvis. Also they can be seen in the peripheral veins, mainly in the inferior extremities."

So it seems you really have nothing to worry about.

PS: No one ever said Jesus wasn't a pervert

-Carrie Jo

4:27 PM  
Blogger spiller said...

Oh...so glad for you that that's done with. I am mildly queasy just reading about it.

I hope you are carefully documenting every minute of this misery so that when Gringa or Gringo Junior is thirteen and screaming that they hate you you can show them exactly what you went through to get them born.

6:52 PM  
Blogger spiller said...

Oh...so glad for you that that's done with. I am mildly queasy just reading about it.

I hope you are carefully documenting every minute of this misery so that when Gringa or Gringo Junior is thirteen and screaming that they hate you you can show them exactly what you went through to get them born.

6:53 PM  
Blogger spiller said...

Oh...so glad for you that that's done with. I am mildly queasy just reading about it.

I hope you are carefully documenting every minute of this misery so that when Gringa or Gringo Junior is thirteen and screaming that they hate you you can show them exactly what you went through to get them born.

6:53 PM  
Blogger spiller said...

Oh...so glad for you that that's done with. I am mildly queasy just reading about it.

I hope you are carefully documenting every minute of this misery so that when Gringa or Gringo Junior is thirteen and screaming that they hate you you can show them exactly what you went through to get them born.

6:54 PM  
Blogger spiller said...

Oh...so glad for you that that's done with. I am mildly queasy just reading about it.

I hope you are carefully documenting every minute of this misery so that when Gringa or Gringo Junior is thirteen and screaming that they hate you you can show them exactly what you went through to get them born.

6:55 PM  
Blogger spiller said...

Sorry....I really didn't mean to say that 6 times.

1:44 PM  
Blogger Sanorah said...

At least that's overwith and one less thing to worry about right! Your one step closer to baby!

~Sanorah
http://twatlightzone.blogdrive.com/

5:20 AM  
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6:40 PM  

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