One of the items on my September goals list was a trip to the gynecologist to see about the strange goings-on down in Cooterville, and, I can now cross that off my list. And, cross it off I shall, with a motherfucking sharpie pen and fifteen exclamation points behind it.
It went well, I think. I ended up having an endometrial biopsy, which, if you have never had the pleasure, well, lucky fucking you.
Suffice it to say: it hurt.
Wait, that's not really sufficient, let me try this again....IT FUCKING HURT.
The procedure consists of having a woman (in this case, me) allow a doctor to crank her nether-region open with the Jaws of Life before inserting a flexible tube into the vagina, where it is pushed up through the cervix, and into the uterus. There, the hollow tip of the tube pierces the uterine lining, and, with the aid of a bit of suction, pinches off and sucks up a "small" tissue sample before being extracted back out from whence it came.
Obviously, the woman (in this case, me) is going to feel "a little pinch". Kind of like how labor just feels like "a little pressure".
Before the "pinch", there is cramping that can best be compared to having one's uterus gripped by King Kong. I mean, I'm guessing (but it's probably a pretty safe guess).
The fun really starts after the tube is removed, when the bleeding starts. In my case, the bleeding was slightly more profuse than typically expected, or, so I assumed when the doctor requested several applications of whatever clotting agent she was using on the site of the extraction and then told the nurse that she feared she might have hit a vessel.
To my credit, I neither threw up nor passed out, both of which crossed my mind, simultaneously.
When the clotting agent proved ineffective, the doctor applied pressure to the wound for a while before changing to a different clotting agent. That one eventually "worked" (still bleeding, thanks!), and I was instructed to rest on my back for ten minutes, after which the nurse let me sit up for another ten minutes before discharging me with strict instructions to call immediately if I soaked through a pad in less than 90 minutes or was unable to control the pain with ibuprofen.
I should have the results of the biopsy in about a week (I'm 99.999% sure it will be fine). In the meantime, I will probably bleed out (just kidding, Mom!), but, at least I will have had the privilege of handing over a $60 co-pay in order to cross an item off my bucket list.
Yay, me?!
I need a fucking nap.
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