The Doctor Visit

Something happens when you hit the magical (read, "advanced")age of 35, stuff starts to break down, weird pains creep up. Something goes wrong, or hurts and won't stop hurting until your husband is tired of hearing you whine about it, and sends you to the doctor. But something as "routine" as going to the doctor becomes a whole lot harder than asking for the morning off when you have two small kids permanently attached to you.
So if you don't have an easy daytime babysitter to call, or grandma nearby or friends who don't work day jobs and are up and coherent before noon, you have to take them with you. There was a time when I thought that just wasn't done- I never see women with small kids in the waiting room at the GYN. The GYN is a quiet place where women go alone, silently, to be tortured. And then treat themselves to pizza and ice cream and wine, afterward. Yes, I thought it just wasn't done, until I realized that if I didn't bring at least one kid with me, I wasn't going to be able to make an appointment until like, Christmas.
So I plan ahead. Snackies? Check. Bottle? Check. Book? Yes. Car toy? Darn right. Crayons? Always. Sticker book? That too, always. My purse is like an endless pit of enchantments. I am prepared to keep the wee one busy while we get down to business. Today's visit like every other GYN type of "visit" will have me undressed from the waist down and lying on my back. This very sight is bound to make the little ones uncomfortable- something is wrong here. Add medical personnel in a white coat (just like the folks who probe and poke them) and we've got a problem.
Julian will be my little shadow for the day and we head into SF after dropping Zoe off at preschool. He's in a great mood, and he's not nearly as shy as he has been recently. He's wandering around the lobby pushing his stroller, charming people right and left. A middle aged Chinese man in a white lab coat opens the door and mangles my name. Yup, that's me. I have to wrestle the stroller from Julian who goes from giggles to noodles in 2 seconds flat. Then into the slippery board position, my favorite when trying to make a graceful exit. While I'm trying to sweet talk Julian, I glance at the guy in the lab coat. He gives me a "time is money", "I'm not amused" sort of look. Not what I am hoping for. He sees me with my arms full of slippery, cranky baby, large bag, handful of toys and half folded stroller and turns to walk through the door, leaving me to quickly grab at the door so as not to be left behind him in the waiting room. Where did he go? Oh, down the hall- he must be in the room with the open door. Thanks for the hand, bub.
The room is darkened. It's a sonogram room. I've done this before. Last time it was to see pictures of Julian in Utero. But I'm not pregnant. We're here to take a look at my ovaries, to see if the cyst that was there 6 weeks ago is gone. And I know it is, because I can't feel it hurting anymore. It's pretty routine, but the appointment was scheduled 6 weeks ago and I just want to get it over with. I figure Mr. No Sense Of Humor Or Family with his back to me is probably going to enter some stuff in the computer and leave so the person who will perform the internal sonogram can come in. I try to press The Slippery Board into the stroller, barely get him locked in, as he yells and squirms. Mr. No Personality is still not amused or warm or saying, "that's okay, I have nephews at home! ;) " I get the bottle out and into Julian's crying mouth. Ready. Quiet. Okay, now I can... wait a minute.
"Are YOU going to be the one doing the sonogram?" I asked.
The cold, dry-as-a-cracker middle aged Chinese guy jumps up and asks if I would prefer a female.
Hell yes, what are you f*&%ing kidding?
"Yes, I would, please".
He practically runs from the room on his heels. I think he is just as relieved as I am. See, I've done this sort of sonogram before. In order to get the picture, they need to insert the camera inside. It's like laying up on a table with your legs spread open while the practitioner inserts the equivalent of a huge dildo with a camera at the top end into your vagina and steers the thing around inside of you with their hand jammed up against your pubic bone to get just the right angle.
Now, I have to admit, I used be embarrassed changing my clothes in the locker room. After having two babies, I have zero modesty left. None. It's the first thing to go.
But even this is a bit much to take from a cold, middle aged Chinese guy who won't even look at my baby, sniffling in the corner of the darkened room.
I was almost mad that they didn't assign me a female in first place.
So, I'm waiting for the replacement practitioner, and waiting, and realizing that I had this all worked out- that bottle will last about 12 minutes max- enough time to get this thing well under way- but the clock is tick tick ticking, while the baby is sucking and the milk is disappearing... this doesn't bode well for said torture appointment. One mad baby may add a new twist on the torture element- for everyone involved if this doesn't move along soon.
Click click click- I hear heels. The curtain parts and a smiling woman my own age walks in and cheerfully introduces herself in a warm, friendly manner. She turns to Julian and says, "well now, who's this cute young man?". Aces. Love you.
Just then, SMACK- tink tink tink. The bottle is tossed to the floor. The bottom lip curls up and the crying starts all over again. I apologize profusely and explain that I didn't have anyone to leave him with, and I couldn't reschedule, etc. etc. She says, "Doooooon't worry about it. I have two at home. I have a big family. I know how it is. Should I take off my coat, Julian? You don't like my coat?". She removes her white lab coat. Shakes her head. Tisk tisks that I should be sorry. She looks for ways to make us both comfortable. She suggests calming him down first.
"take a minute and calm him down. I'll step out. Then take off your clothes from the waist down. Sit him up on the table next to you, however you want."
I pull off my pants quickly and grab The Purse Of A Thousand Amusements. I pull out a plane. Hucked onto the floor. I pull out The Snacky Trap full of Elmo crackers and feed them to the beast one at a time with him on my half naked lap. He is finally quiet again. The sonogram technician returns and gives him some cutsey faces and explains how this is going to work, while dangling her ID tags in Julian's face and raising the bar on the hospital style bed where I'm laid out. Now he can sit safely next to me, or rather half straddling me (as he will not let me put him far enough away that can't be warmed by my body heat) and not fall off the table. So he is content, and the exam begins. The camera is fitted with a condom, and ton of lube and I am allowed to insert it before the technician takes over with the steering. It is jammed up so far inside me, bumping at my cervix (which you ladies know can be quite uncomfortable) and poking at my tonsils. It's almost like she's playing a video game up in there. First gear! Second! Third gear! Shift! Meanwhile, Julian is actually full from the bottle, and trying to cram Elmos into my mouth.
"I don't want one, thanks honey." Oh no Mommy, you do. Maybe you want one dropped down your shirt? Smashed in your hair? Up your nose? Elmo crackers are falling all over my face one after the other. Mario Andretti is shifting into high gear trying to find my left ovary which seems to be tilted in a weird position and my insides are cramping up while my knees are splayed east and west.
Evidently, she can't get a good picture.
In an apologetic yet sing-song voice the technician explains, "I need you to raise your pelvis up off the table and hold it there for a minute, can you do that?" Great, so I am rocked back on my shoulders while bucking my pelvis up to the ceiling in Table Pose, which Julian finds very amusing and tries to climb up on my chest thinking this is a fun game, and raining Elmo faces down on mine the whole time. Oh yeah, and there's a GIGANTIC DILDO CAMERA jammed up my Hoo-Hoo probing frantically for God only knows what.
"Can you raise up for me again, and hold it for another minute?"
I almost reached for The Purse Of Endless Enchantments thinking I needed to document this with the P.A.S (point and shoot), but luckily for you, did not have an extra hand, or the room on the table.
"Got it!" She announced. And it was over.
She apologized profusely for putting me through such a session, and I apologized for bringing my baby along to our date.
Once I wiped all the lube away, pulled my pants up, and put Mister back in his stroller, we were out the door. On the way to the car, I just kept thinking about how intrusive bringing your kids along to various situations can be to other people, no matter how unavoidable, and how surrounding yourself with other moms who understand can be so reassuring and supportive.
Now, let's get some ice cream.