The newbie

I went for my baseline u/s today, even though Aunt Flo hasn't made her appearance yet. I guess normally the baseline would have been on Monday, and what with the holiday and all, it got switched. Seeing as all they are doing is checking for cysts, I guess the actual timing doesn't really matter all that much.

But oh dear oh dear oh dear. The normal u/s technician at Local Clinic was off today. Normally that would be a good thing, because she always has to comment about how gassy I am and tsk and tut like I deliberately filled up on beans just to annoy her. And I did have a nice meal of lentils and brown rice last night, so this could have been a day for plenty of gas-related discussion. But she got the day off. And they got a temp in. Who is a new u/s tech. And I don't mean new as in "new to them", I mean, new to the job. A fresh graduate. Doesn't know what the fuck she is doing new.

So, being as she was as slow as molasses, I didn't even get in to see her until about 10.10 this morning. When my appointment was for 8.30. And I'd had my blood drawn so long ago, the needle stick had healed and grown fresh skin. In fact, I think I acquired a couple more freckles on my arm as well, and a few extra wrinkles around my eyes, it took that long. So I was not in the best of moods when I got in there. Then she couldn't understand the whole "yes, I go to a different clinic, but I come here for local monitoring" concept, so that took some time to explain. Then she left the room while I went to pee, and left the wrong screen up on the computer, showing me everybody's full names, and breaking who knows how many HIPAA rules. (Or is it HIPPA? HIPPAA? Whatever). Then she didn't come back in the room in forevah. I felt like going out there in my paper drape and asking her to get the fuck on with it. I mean, I don't know how much privacy she thinks we need to get on the table, but the other tech just stays in the room so that she can get going as soon as we're ready. There is a changing area with a curtain, after all.

But we finally got started. And she wielded the u/s probe like a teenage boy wielding his dick. In other words, like she was a blind person operating a battering ram. Luckily she gooped it up with so much lube that it finally slid towards the right opening, although I admit to being worried for my urethra for a while there. And then there was silence. She rotated the wand around a bit, staring intently at the screen. More silence. More gyrations of the wand. After a few minutes of this, I offered to press down on my belly if that would help her find my ovary. She said she'd found the right one, but was trying to get a pretty picture. I felt like telling her that nobody's gotten a pretty ovary picture out of me yet, what with the gassiness, but I kept quiet. Another age went by. I again offered to press down on my belly. Stand on my head. Anything. And she finally started counting, and pressed the button to generate a print. I think she counted to 7, but it could have been 6. She certainly didn't share the information with me, but as it was all far too much to do without having to count semi out-loud, I was able to read her lips for the information.

Then we went searching for lefty. Infamous lefty. The ovary that has been left out of numerous ultrasounds. That was even left out of an entire egg retrieval because it had swum up to nestle somewhere near my diaphragm and the RE didn't have a needle long enough to reach it, even with a nurse pressing her full weight on my belly. So, newbie tech hunted for a while. She rotated that wand like she wanted to carve me a new va-jay-jay because mine wasn't quite big enough. I tried offering helpful hints like "it's high up and over to the left", and "let me just press down on my belly to move it for you", but she refused the belly push. Instead she got up, and said she was going to try to move my bowel out of the way, so started trying to almost grab a section of bowel and push it sideways. Needless to say, that didn't work. She asked if anyone had ever used a transabdominal ultrasound to find it. I said no. Cruelly. Well, it is true but I guess I could have told her that other techs have just given up and said that if I had a cyst they'd be able to see the ovary so they just hoped it was all fine. I just didn't trust her to make such a judgement call. She dithered over getting the transabdominal attachment out. There was more rotating of the wand. I think my poor vag got more action today than it has in a very long time. It was certainly getting sore by this point.

In the end I lost patience, and just used both hands and pressed down hard exactly where I know I need to press down to make the darn ovary show up. And what do you know? She was suddenly able to find it. Who'd have thought? That I could help her find my own ovary? She counted six follicles. No cysts.

Finally I was free to go. I had so much goop everywhere, including half way down my legs, that it took me an age to clean up. I checked out of the clinic at 10.30. Two freakin' hours!! I told the receptionist that the u/s tech really needs to speed up, and she chirpily told me that the tech was only here today. Great. So, the one day out of, what, 4 months, that I need an u/s, I get the freakin' newbie. On the only day that she's there.

So, anyway, that's that. I am good to go for this cycle, assuming my estrogen is nice and low. Yippee-ay-yay.