Just FYI, things are going to get real. This is entire process is a TMI nightmare, so if you are faint of heart, turn away! If not, you will most likely laugh at my misery. Feel free! I too can now laugh at the experiences 😉
Now that we had a date set, a barrage of awesomeness was ready to come my way. I was already not impressed for the prep work on this whole thing. You see, I had banished a certain family member for the large majority of my life; however, in order to complete the IVF process, it was crucial that I reluctantly invite them back. I gave a fond farewell to my friend Depo Prevera, and soon was reunited with my nemesis, Aunt Flow. Each and every month since, I can be heard saying “this is crap!” and reminding my wife that she owes me for this. As such, my patience and mental health were already being strained by this unwanted relationship with my long lost relative. The one thing that I did have was a countdown of how much longer I had to deal with it until I could boot my unwanted Aunt back to the curb. But I digress…
As with all of this jazz, there was a load of bloodwork and some other good things to knock out prior to our consult. Another test that was thoroughly anticipated called the HSG, or more affectionately referred to as the fireworks test. For those of you that don’t know what that is, it stands for Hella Stupid Gongshow where they take an xray of my fallopian tubes while shoving stuff in there to light it up like the fourth of July. Very patriotic really…but as with everything I so desperately try to avoid, I try to find the lighter side of things.
Lets start at the beginning. In true avoidance techniques, I made my wife call and make the appointment on my behalf while I was at work. Shortly after, I was advised by my wife that my appointment was an hour away, in between night shifts, AND just for fun, they require that I go to the lab for a pregnancy test the day before. Wait, what?!? Needless to say, there was a short back and forth as I was trying to understand what my dear wife was trying to communicate and then I called directly.
The reception person at the x-ray place told me that I was required to take a pregnancy test as sometimes people just may not know that they are pregnant. Uh huh…I tried desperately to stay calm as I said, I appreciate that concept, but I can guarantee that I am not pregnant. This was not good enough, so I advised that my wife had taken the exact same xray in Vancouver and they didn’t even ask for a pregnancy test. She said that different agencies have different policies…I told her that maybe they just aren’t 50 years behind the times and realize that women who do not have sex with men cannot be pregnant. I even went so far to pass on the wisdom that my referring doctor provided me, but to no avail…After much back and forth, and me eventually having to hang up before I started uttering threats to this person who insisted this was “policy,” I finally said fine. After all I figured I pee a lot anyways, might as well just throw some in the cup for them right? That’s not so bad.
Fast forward a few days, and I wake up early from working nights. My zombie butt heads into town to go pee in my cup and prove that the lesbian has not picked up a pregnancy from any public bathroom seats, or hot tubs. The plus for the morning is that the lab tech is this super nice lady that I know from being stuck at the hospital for work. She walks me in, we make small talk and then she says have a seat. Have a seat? I haven’t had to pee in a cup for a while, but last I checked in happened in the bathroom! She laughed, and she said these are blood tests and then she paused…With a very confused look on her face, she half stated/half asked, this is a pregnancy test? I countered with, “Don’t even get me started on that, but a blood test, can’t I just pee in the cup?” I shared the awesomeness of the situation, which received disbelief and head shakes. She explained that they wanted a blood test instead of a pee test to make super sure that I was not pregnant. I said, the only way on earth that I can be pregnant is if I had baby Jesus hanging out inside of me and then we can all just stop right there because mission accomplished! This comment may have increased my risk of getting a needle somewhere else as my lovely company could not hold back the laughter, as well as her colleagues. I believe I then went on a rant about how I need a warrant to get blood from a drunk driver, but the stupid policy can take mine without cause to make sure I’m not pregnant in my path to get pregnant? Yeah. The lack of sleep, paired with the stupidity of the situation was not working well together. But my fire was fueled once again from having to give up blood over this closed-minded policy and words would be said at my appointment the next day.
The next morning was full of anticipation as I had a full hour’s drive on limited sleep to think about how much this was going to suck. Pretty certain I asked my wife numerous times whether this was ABSOLUTELY necessary, and she said suck it up and just do it. We got to the hospital and to top things off, I encountered one of my pet peeves. You see, we had an appointment. I truly appreciate appointments because you have a time that you are required, and then go from there. Yeah, apparently this appointment meant, do not go straight to the department at the time prescribed by said department, but instead go to the front of the hospital, pull a number and wait…the impending torture test, paired with no sleep, and topped off by making an appointment to pull a number, but hey! At least I found out that I wasn’t pregnant right? This was going to be good!
After waiting well past my appointment time to give them my name, I finally got upgraded to the x-ray department where we had a great discussion about, you guessed it, policy! I explained my absolute disgust over the archaic policy that resulted in the completely unwarranted taking of my blood. Further to that, I expressed my extreme disappointment with the complete night and day difference on how a same sex couple trying to get pregnant is treated in the North, versus in areas of larger populations. Yeah, don’t expect any policy changes soon, but the poor lady had to take down my complaint…that most likely made it to the garbage very quickly, but at least I voiced it right? Now, on to the whole point of this whole fiasco.
I know that normally I could make a garbage bag look good, but remember I was coming off night shifts. As such, my stylish hospital gown was paired with my old, run down Canucks hat. As I was brought into the x-ray room, introduced to the lovely assistant and provided pain killers in advance to the loveliness, I couldn’t help but wonder how many people gets this done while wearing a ball cap. As I waited, I made myself feel a little better about the fact that I was most likely in an exclusive list for that criteria.
Now for the good stuff. You know it seems kind of silly that all of this built up, dread and anticipation, but when I look back, it really wasn’t that bad. The doctor walked in, and I was so thankful that he had a sense of humor. He agreed that this was going to suck, but offered a movie to help distract me. Just FYI, the movie was in fact a screen with the real time photos being taken. I can’t remember all the back and forth between me and the good doctor, but I know that it was a break in the way those tests normally went we were all laughing and the assistant was having a hard time keeping up. The firework show was great, which apparently means all is well in the fallopian world, but the unfortunate part was the fact that it felt like I was kicked in the junk. Right as we were finishing up, the doc says that the warm up is over, and now on to the good stuff. Without warning, the words “F*** off!” came out of my mouth which was welcomed by loud laughter from the doc. Now I definitely made a short list of names that experienced the same HSG as me. The doc and the assistant assured me that my gear was in check and wished me all the best. I thanked them for my fireworks and we will never see each other again! But we all had a fun story to tell the kids J Luckily, aside from learning that I wasn’t pregnant before the appointment, I now know that my gear is in check to get pregnant, so bonus all around! Go team.
BRILLIANT! And terrifying…briantly terrifying!
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By briantly one might mean brilliant…BRILLIANTLY TERRIFYING.
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