Have YOU seen my muffin?

I'll give you fair warning right now - this entry is going to contain far too much personal information and will be a bit graphic at times. However, if you continue to read, I'm sure you'll have a nice laugh if you're not woozy. Now is when your fight or flight should kick in and you decide to fight it out and continue to read, or flight right on out of here.

Glad to see you stayed. =)

This bumpy ride that I call "fertility clinic visits" has taken away any modesty I may have had. Honestly. My vagina has been exposed to more strangers in the past two weeks than ever before in my life. It has also been probed with more objects than Cartman's ass. (You must be a fan of South Park to get that one.)

I have had an internal ultrasound, an endometrial biopsy and an HSG test. For those of you non-medical folk, I'll break those down for you. The internal ultrasound consisted of a "wand" that was thin, with a little knob on the end, covered in ultrasound "goo" and inserted inside of me. The fun part was, I got to see my ovaries and uterus on a screen while the ultrasound was being performed. Did I know I was looking at my ovaries and uterus? No. But, I'm glad the nurse told me. On a scale of 1 - 10, this one was about a 5 comfort level, with 10 being complete comfort.

Fast forward to two weeks later and we get to the endometrial biopsy. Now, it was explained to me that I would feel some cramping during this one. I did feel a slight twinge of pain for a mere second and thought, "Huh. That wasn't so bad." Well wouldn't ya know? I apparently had a "non-cooperative cervix" at that moment, so we got to redo the whole thing again the next day!

The next day comes and, again, I am told of the cramping prior and on this comfort scale, this one is getting a big fat 1! Oh and did I mention that the HSG test was performed immediately after? I mean, why expose my vagina yet again, since it's already out in the open, right? The HSG test consisted of dye being injected into my "reproductive area" and then a series of x-rays were taken to be sure that there was no blockage anywhere. This comfort level was about a 9. It really wasn't bad at all.

And, by this point I was even joking with the nurses about everyone seeing my vagina. You might be sitting here, reading all of this, and wondering why there are so many details about all of this. But, I figured since you decided to stay and keep reading, that I should entertain you. Please don't mistake any of this as complaining, because it's quite the opposite actually. I've come to find all of this entertaining. If you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at? Really, this process (and I'm only in the very beginning stages), is pretty overwhelming and I can handle that in several ways. I choose to laugh mostly, cry minimally, and list the clinic as a residence on next year's taxes.

OH! And one other thing? I've become so accustomed to sitting (or laying) in a room with only a shirt and socks on, with a hospital sheet "over my lap" that I'm thinking of pitching this look to Project Runway as an episode challenge. What do you think?