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I ACTUALLY SHAVED FOR THIS?!

Yesterday was my first prenatal appointment.  Yeah!  Good times.

My Doctors practice at Hopkins but they have offices at a suburban location about 30 minutes from our house.  I don’t mind this aspect of the practice because you don’t have to pay for parking in the suburbs!

The latest appointment I could get for the day was at 2PM.  This of course, meant a lot of scurrying in the morning.  I got Mac awake early so we could get our walk in and hopefully get his nap started early so he was asleep when his Father returned from work so I could slip out to my appointment without drama.

Things went pretty well.  By 11:30 I had Mac in the pack and play with a LeapFrog toy while I quickly attempted to shower and shave my massive expanse of white pasty thigh meat.  I figured I was going to be waddling around in a paper gown so I had better pay some damned attention to my grooming.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long as I have been showering and shaving nearly EVERY DAY (gasp! right?) due to the pains in the my side and the fear that I might end up with an unscheduled visit to the ER.  (You can read my rant about that crap here).

I arrived for my appointment 15 minutes early, just as the letter they sent to me instructed.  Even though I was on the verge of a blood-pressure check induced panic attack, I put on my best happy, pleasant, carefree face and breezed into the office.

“I’m baaaaacccckkkkk.” I laughed at the receptionists.

“Your name?” the one on the right asked.

“Miller.”

Click.  Click.  Click.  Lots of clicking on the computer keyboard.  Scowl.  Click.  Click.

“Could your appointment be under a different name?”

“Well my insurance is under my Husband’s name.  Maybe try that.  M-O. . .”  I started spelling out the last name.

“No,” she said.  “Who are you here to see?”

“My paper says ‘Nurse'” I said feeling my face flush.

You did it AGAIN you dingaling!  You showed up at an appointment on the wrong damned day!

“Today IS the 24th right?”  I asked.

“Yes, ” the receptionists answered in unison.

“Could I see what they sent you?” asked the receptionist on my right.

“Sure,” I said as I proudly pulled the paper out of my purse.  I’m so competent I even brought my paperwork to the wrong appointment.  But I stole a glance at the paper as I handed it to her.  I was definitely at the right place at the right time according to this paperwork.

“Oh,” she said glancing at it.  “It happened again.  We got a new computer system and a lot of appointments were dropped in the conversion.”

“Ahhhh.” I groaned sympathetically. “I understand how that is.  Technology.  But look, my Husband had to leave work so I could come to this appointment so if it’s ok, I’m happy to wait as long as it takes today for you to fit me in.”

The paper clearly stated that this appointment would take no less than an hour.  I was practically giddy on the inside watching these poor clowns scramble to fit me in.

“Ok.  Ms. Miller, if you don’t mind having a seat, I’ll get you some paperwork and we’ll see what we can do.”

“Great!” I chirped and practically skipped into the waiting area.  Nan-na-nan-na-nan-na!  I hate you doctors!  

To their credit, I didn’t wait too long until I was greeted by BOTH nurses.  My old pals Judy and Paula!  We joked about how I stupid I am planning to get knocked up again at nearly 37 years old.  Judy’s son was our neighbor for years (good old Smaltimore and he moved when he got married last year.  She updated me on how he was doing.)

If there weren’t four other folks in the waiting room with us, I would have probably been a little more aggressive on asking for the pee cup.  I had been drinking lots of water and saving up for a stellar specimen.  I was nearly the point of bursting.

Unfortunately, they asked me to sit down again and promised Paula would be back with me shortly.

They kept good on their promise and I barely had time to spot a turkey vulture and northern cardinal out the window before Paula called my name again.

But instead of leading me towards the exam rooms, she lead me down a different hall.  I had never been back this hall.

What?

I’M SUPPOSED TO GET TO PEE FIRST!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!  NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

She led me into an office with a table. . .and not the kind of table with stirrups.  Just a plain old table with a computer on top of it.

Don’t panic, Deni.  There’s plenty of time for tinkle.  She’s just going to fill out some paperwork probably and then you’ll get on with the invasive stuff.  Kinda’ nice actually.  She’s actually going to chat you up a little bit before violating you, especially given the time crunch that computer glitch must have caused.

We rehashed my medical history.  AGAIN she mentions the fibroids.

“LOOK, WOMAN,” I laughed, that’s been a running joke since I gave birth.  “If I have fibroid tumors NO ONE has ever told me.  I know it’s on my chart but I have no idea if that’s accurate.  You want to ask me about my vascular disease and heart problems too?”

“Oh dear,” she sighed.  “Something might have gotten miss-coded.  Just tell me what you know. . .”

We were done in 10 minutes flat.

GIVE ME THE CUP!!  GIVE ME THE CUP ALREADY!

“Do you have any questions, Deni?” she asked sincerely.

“Actually, there’s just one thing. . .I’ve been having this pain. . .”

“Do you think you have an ectopic pregnancy?” she whispered.

“Well, I don’t know.  I’ve never had an ectopic pregnancy, but I was worried enough to call about it two weeks ago.” I whispered

WHY ARE WE WHISPERING?!

“It’s not on your notes.” She said.

“Well, I called twice and both times I was told I hadn’t established care with you and I had to go to the ER if I was in pain.”

“WHAT?”  She wasn’t whispering any longer.  In fact, she nearly fell off her chair.

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT?” She bellowed in her very proper British accent.

“Um.  I can’t remember the first person but the second person was Lauren or Laura.” I said averting my eyes.  I’m clearly causing trouble for this poor Laura chick whom I’ve never met.

“Laura isn’t even a NURSE.  She works in a CALL CENTER! She had NO RIGHT TO TELL YOU TO GO TO THE ER!” Paula declares slapping her hand on the table forcefully.

“Oh.  I did think it felt a little icky,” I mumbled.  “I mean, I was just hoping they could have run it past a nurse or something. I wasn’t demanding an appointment that minute.”

“Of course they should have!  You are important.  You have established care with us.  We don’t treat patients this way.  If this EVER happens again, you demand to talk to Judy or me immediately.  Do you understand?”

“Yes.  Yes.  I understand.”  Knees trembling. . .for Lauren.

“Lauren?” you say.

“Yes.” I answered meekly.  I just want to pee in a cup already, please.  I’m not here to make trouble.

“Ok.  Well we need to get you an ultrasound ASAP just in case.  My guess is, you’re having a muscular issue since ectopic pregnancies are accompanied by spotting.”

“Well, there’s been some of that too. . .”  My voice trailed off, I’m so getting an ultrasound before I pee.  ARGH.

“Bad?’

“No.  Not bad.  And if not for the pain, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it.”

“We’ll get you an ultrasound and an appointment with the Doctor as soon as possible to be safe, but it’s probably just fine.” Paula said kindly.

“I’m going to walk you to the front desk to schedule your appointments.  Then go straight away to the lab for blood work, okay?”

WAIT, WHAT?!

ARE YOU TELLING ME I DON’T GET TO PEE?  I’M NOT SEEING A DOCTOR TODAY?  YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO CHECK MY TEMPERATURE OR BLOOD PRESSURE?  WHERE’S THE DAMNED DOCTOR?!  WHERE’S MY ULTRASOUND?!  I THOUGHT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE AN HOUR?!  IT’S BEEN 20 MINUTES!!!  TEN OF WHICH WAS SPENT BITCHING ABOUT SOME CHICK NAMED LAUREN!!!

I CALL FOUL!

I SHAVED MY LEGS!  I TRIMMED THE HEDGES FOR CHRISSAKES!  I DESERVE FOR SOMEONE TO MAN-HANDLE MY UTERUS WITH A LATEX-CLAD FINGER (or four), DAMNIT!  

“Thanks.” I muttered, gathering up all my literature and jamming it into the pink folder they so graciously provided.

pink folder

AND now I have TWO appointments next week.

I’m going to need more razors. . .

STUPID DOCTORS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 Responses to “I ACTUALLY SHAVED FOR THIS?!”

  1. Dani Ryan says:

    Are you kidding me?!?!?!?!
    Dani Ryan recently posted…10 ways I’ve become the parent I swore I’d never beMy Profile

    • admin says:

      Ugh. I’m as serious as the bleeping double line on the pregnancy test! 🙂 It’s mind blowing isn’t it? Next appointment is tomorrow. I hope it doesn’t disappoint. Ha!

  2. Shay says:

    Okay, should I be embarrassed that “massive expanse of white pasty thigh meat” made me hungry? Oh, I should be? Dammit…
    Shay recently posted…Tupperware PartyMy Profile

    • admin says:

      Hilarious! No need to be embarrassed! Just the other day we were walking in the park and I told my Husband that all the little pink petals from the trees (that were all over the ground) were making me hungry for ham. They looked like little chunks of ham. . .So you’re in good company. We’ll, maybe it’s not good company. . .but you’re not alone at least. 🙂