So yesterday was HSG day. We arrived at 12:30 for our appointment at 1. There were eight other ladies there to have the HSG done as well. My blood pressure was high....again. Every time I tell them I have white coat hypertension, the nurses never believe me. I think I'd know myself by now. Maybe. So after one, we all were ushered onward to wait in the clinic. Naturally, we were second to last to be called...three hours later. I wish we would have been last.
They took DH and I back, gowned me, and got me up on the table. They had a med student there to observe/partake, which didn't bother me. What did bother me was that I have a very high cervix, so that little boy cranked that speculum around like he was playing Atari trying to find it. Po' vagina. So they got all one hundred things in there, which hurt like a bitch. I felt like I was getting poked with sticks, and then clubbed with a big stick. They injected the dye, started up the picture machine, saw it fill up my uterus, and BAM!!
The machine died.
Everyone was looking around with question marks on their faces. They tried to restart it, but it was a no go. Then they gave me the options (while I still had all of those things all up in my vajayjay): I could either opt to quit and come back another day, or they could reboot the machine while I laid there with god knows what shoved into my lady cavity. I opted to just sit and tough it out, after all I did NOT want to go through getting all of those things in there again. That shit hurt--don't let anyone ever lie to you about it. So I sat and waited....for 20 minutes. So at this point the story should end with.."and then the machine worked and everything was fantabulous!".
The machine died....again.
So I could either cancel and come back again, or they could move me to the other room and we could do the whole thing again. The clamps, the speculum, the grenade, the spaghetti noodles, all of it. Christ almighty, why?! This is when the tech chimed in and said they could use a different, less painful catheter. I wish I knew then when I agreed that she was a lying bitch.
So they ripped all of my cooter accessories out (one word...OUCH! D:) and I waddled over to the next room. Everything was set up again, they spread me wide and went right back at it. That second catheter was a balloon one without the thing that clamps onto your uterus. I cried silently for my poor, poor insides as I laid on the table praying for the sweet release of death. But I didn't get death...I got a perfectly clear and normal HSG. :) No tubes blocked, no gnomes growing where they shouldn't be. Yay!!!
Everyone said I was a trooper for getting two HSGs back to back. F yes I was! And you can bet your sweet bottom I went straight to Chili's and downed a margarita like a lightning bolt! KA-CHOW! They also told me had the first machine lasted 2 seconds longer they would have seen the spillage and I wouldn't have had to do it twice. Totally not comforting.
I'm still in pain from it. I guess getting doubled up with dye isn't setting well with my body. And I haven't even looked at my hoo-ha yet...I assume it looks like a disaster zone. Can I get FEMA to come down there? Hmmm..*ponders*
So HSG went well, I've finished my first cycle of Clomid, and now we're waiting to see if my ovaries will perk up and come back from their lifetime long vacation. Yea, wouldn't that be nice? Definitely, definitely nice. :)