Thursday, September 4, 2008

I swear, I could not make this up

****DISCLAIMER***** If you do not have the parts necessary to visit a gynocologist, this post may scar you for life. Like my 3 year old.

Today was my pre-op appointment, for the surgery I have scheduled for Tuesday. Yes, next Tuesday, September 9th, 5 days from now. So when, at the beginning of the appointment, the doctor suggested that I try some new medication to see if the surgery could be avoided, when she told me that the surgery might not be worth it, when she told me that there might not be anything she could do, or that they might have to take it a step further and perform a much more serious procedure that would involve several days in the hospital, well, I was caught off guard. She told me all about the risks, and while repeating that she would be happy to perform the surgery, she also told me the experience, and the results, might not be what I was expecting.

Sister, you got that right.

It is important to note that I was told, over the phone last week, that the pre-op would take less then 1/2 an hour. As this is my 12th operation, I was pretty clear on the outline of those 30 minutes - bloodwork, weight, blood pressure, meet the doc, discuss medical history, shake hands, head home.

And that is why I brought Lucy with me - why hire a sitter, or leave her with one of my dear friends, when I was only going to be busy for a few minutes? I mean, let's save those generous offers for next week when I am in dire straits and really needing the backup. But, I digress. The point here is that, I had Lucy with me, and the appointment was not at all what I expected, and TOTALLY inappropriate for my 3 year old.

It started with the announcement that the doctor was going to perform a "full physical". Never mind that I just HAD a full physical 2 weeks ago. I was handed two pieces of paper, and told to strip and get on the table. As the door closed, and I started to undress, Lucy *freaked out*.

"What are you DOING?" she gasped
"Getting my check up."
"Why are you NAKED."
"So the doctor can examine me. Remember I told you it was OK for a doctor to see you naked ?"
"But why do you have to be naked if your tummy hurts?"
"Because sometimes Mommy doctors need to see ALL of mommy."
"THAT is DISGUSTING." Lucy said flatly. "I can see your butt."

The visit did not improve from there. The doctor decided to do a pelvic exam, which in my current condition is not only extremely painful, but involves some conversation, question and answer, "Does this hurt here?" "Sorry about that." "Hope I'm not hurting you." "Just let me know if this is too uncomfortable, we can stop." And meanwhile I am flinching and trying not to moan out loud because it hurts SO MUCH. Lucy sat there, mouth agape in horror.

And then they brought in the ultrasound machine, to further examine me, and consequently scar my child for life. At this point, I was desperately upset that I hadn't left her with a friend. I had the opportunity, the invitation, it would have been FINE to leave her with a friend. But OH NO, I just HAD to bring her with me for this. Idiot. I am an idiot.

As the doctor put the condom over the internal ultrasound probe, Lucy choked on a cashew.
"It's going to take a picture of my belly."
"WHAT???? HOW????"

I offered her a graham cracker and changed the subject, since *I* don't even like thinking about the "how" of this situation. Now that I have been completely exposed in front of my toddler, and she has witnessed all manner of probing and lubricant, the doctor leaves me to "clean up".

Oh, the humanity.

I try to be discreet, but of course, Lucy has all sorts of questions - completely rational and reasonable questions about the exam, my "clean up" technique, and my butt. And I want to crawl under the exam table and die. I feel like crap, the visit did not go well in terms of their findings, the surgery is now in question, and I am completely exhausted. I have 3 more stops to make before we can go home, and it's lunch time.

Lucy was a trouper. A Jamba Juice, a few stickers, the promise of a movie when we finally got to the house, and she was patient and content to tag along as I picked up prescriptions and made more appointments and drove all the way back up the mountain - all the while trying very hard not to break down in front of her. Now we are home, and she is asleep, and I am going to go to bed too. Max is at a friend's house because honestly, he could use some fun. And he won't find it here watching videos while mommy sleeps in her darkened bedroom with a fan and a heating pad.

In the beginning, I had thought maybe I was as cool as this mommy and that this would all be no big deal - a learning experience, even.

I was oh so wrong.

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