Who knew trying to NOT have babies could be such a pain in the arse? About a month ago, I decided to call my doctor and schedule an appointment to have an IUD put in. The hormones in birth control make me sick, sick, sick (hence how DH and I wound up with two Whoops Babies) so I wanted something hormone-free. I talked to a friend who had the Paragard and decided that’s what I wanted. Because it’s me and nothing can ever be easy, the doctor’s office required that I come into the office to talk to my GYN before they’d schedule the procedure. Basically I had to make an appointment to make an appointment. Dumb. But I did it. Went in, told him I wanted the Paragard, scheduled the appointment for a month later, and went on my merry way.
Fast forward to Monday. I line up a sitter, go the office, sit in the waiting room for twenty minutes past my appointment time, finally get called back, pee in a cup (and all over my hand), walk into the exam room….and see a Mirena sitting out on the table. Errrrrm, no. I explained to the nurse that I wasn’t having that one put in. She checked the notes and guess what? That’s what they had pre-certed with my insurance company. Really people? They had to do a new pre-cert so I had to make a new appointment for yesterday and do the whole line-up-a-sitter-get-in-the-zone-for-being-violated-pee-in-a-cup-and-on-my-hand thing again.
When the nurse asked me if I minded if a med student came in, I should have thought of my recent string of luck and said no. But I didn’t. I said yes, because let’s face it, I’ve given birth twice and I have no modesty any more. You wanna look at my va-jay-jay? Have at it, I don’t care. So who walks in? Dr. Young and Hot, which made me immediately regret my decision not to uh… touch up the pruning job I’d done for Monday’s appointment. I’m sure if you spend your days looking at lady bits you become immune, but I was still self-conscious of my womanly version of 5 o’clock shadow nonetheless. As if that wasn’t unpleasant enough, my doctor then begins whistling a tune mid-way through the insertion. It sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite place it….. until he said, “Man, I just can’t get that song from that show outta my head.” Know what it was?? The camera song from Diego. Yeah, the “Say click! Take a pic!” one. What.the.hell. As if I didn’t hate that show enough, now I will be reminded of being pretty much fisted every time I hear Rosie Perez start warbling about finding the “aneemal in trrruuble”. As soon as he said what song it was, smart ass comments run through my head about the animal rescue being a beaver, but THANK GAWD my filter was in place and I kept my mouth shut. For once.