bare bottom pictures

The man in radiology is seriously good looking, good thing I’m wearing the ugliest hospital gown ever sown and the biggest, sheerest granny panties ever (did I mention they are see through and include an adult sized diaper…?). Not that it matters of course, since I’m happily married but come on, could I have looked more like a mess? My mom follows me in the stark white room with weird looking machines and monitors, carrying my valentine’s day Louis Vuitton purse (yes, I do love my husband) and the white hospital bag with my clothes. They tell her to go outside and I feel so bad for her having to go through this with me, it’s way past 8 pm (probably closer to 9) and even though food is now the furthest thing from my mind, I realized she hasn’t eaten (or used the bathroom for that matter) for hours. The guy rolling me here asks if I can stand up (of course he wants this underground hospital journey to be over, take the wheelchair back and end his shift) and walk over to an odd looking futuristic screen. My feet barely carry me as I wobblingly walk over to the screen, knees shaking, head spinning. The ridiculously hot man takes over asking me to stay close to the screen with my legs and arms spread far apart, hands up, palms facing the screen. I have to stand still in that pose with my chin up but all I want to do is look down in embarrassment because I don’t have any hand left to cover my bare bottom peeking out underneath the huge see through panties where the gown splits open…and of course this man is right behind me helping positioning me just right. How come I have time to worry about this you might wonder, well it sure as h*ll beats letting the fear in right now. He leaves the room to push a button several times (much like at the dentist but somehow I’m more comfortable taking snapshots of my teeth…even though come to think of it I always gag on that thing they put in your mouth before taking those pictures). He is telling to breathe normally versus taking deep breaths, it appears that he is checking out my lungs (I’m hoping that is the only thing he is checking out or the poor man will have nightmares tonight…let’s just say my body has seen better days). In true hospital policy spirit he tells me absolutely nothing as another hospital aid magically shows up with the wheelchair and my mom meets us outside the door where she has been forced to wait. She asks me what went on in the room but I’m not even sure I know. As we wait for yet another huge metal elevator, the new wheelchair guys is telling us that we are on our way to get an ultrasound (of course he can’t really answer questions on of what and why, he is just here to take us from point A to B) so instead we ask him about the truth in elevating legs to prevent swelling. See, the nurse who released me and my humongous heffa lump (he was called that right, the huge elephant looking creature from Winnie the pooh…?) feet told me that was a myth, this guy is on our side however and tells us that elevation is common practice to prevent swelling.

 

The girl performing the ultrasound is really nice, she is actually willing to talk me through it and my mom gets to stay in the room (too bad they have no chair for her though…she looks tired, I can’t say I blame her, it has been a looong day and I wish we could just go home, go to sleep and forget that this day never happened). She is putting the cold gel on my stomach (doesn’t feel right somehow to call it a belly anymore when it’s just not cute and round holding a baby but just big, deflated and flabby) and it feels like déjà vu but a major thing is missing- the grainy picture on the screen is no longer the baby but what is left in my uterus. It’s weird and frightening, is there something left? Did the doctor leave something behind? Last time I did an ultra sound my baby was in there and I was beside myself with worry, at least she is out now and she is okay but I’m still worried but now I’m also sicker than I have ever felt in my entire life and it doesn’t help when the ultrasound technician apologetically asks me if its ok if she shoves a huge thing up inside me to take a better look because she does see something in there…

 

About jennym

A doctor of psychology and a mother of three writing about the struggles and joys and the ups and downs of motherhood, marriage, pregnancies, deliveries and her absolute love for her children in a humoristic yet down to earth weekly blog!

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