TMI

So this is one of those TMI* posts.

Warning - if you are squeamish, especially about things relating to female anatomy, just leave now. I am not taking responsibility for upsetting sensitive readers.

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So yesterday I had an appointment with my gynae. Why? Well firstly, as a 30-something woman you are supposed to go see your gynae about once a year** for a general check up and pap smear. Also I have a Mirena, which is a fabulous little device which not only offers near on 100% contraception, but also reduces or even removes your periods for up to 5 years. \o/ It's a wonderful invention that has made my life so much better. I love it. No cramping, bloating, moodiness, and all the other crap that goes with a monthly cycle.

So why am I telling you any of this? Well it seems that some people (read men) think there's something exciting and even erotic about a gynaecologist visit. It seems to be a fantasy of kinds.

Let me describe yesterday's visit to dispel any misconceptions (no pun intended) you may have, and then you can decide just how fun and exciting it must be.

Firstly, I must say that I really like and respect my gynae. He is a small Ghandi-like Moslem man (yes I KNOW Ghandi himself wasn't Moslem). He is respectful, considerate, courteous and just a sweet and kind man. He takes his time to get to know you and listen to anything you have to say, and is happy to answer any questions you may have. He makes a point to tell you exactly what he is doing and makes sure you are comfortable throughout. In fact if it wasn't for all of that I don't think I would be able to cope with the anti-joy that is a visit to the gynae. Especially not yesterday's visit...

So let's see, after the routine weight and blood pressure checks (no surprises there), and then general breast and abdominal examination (again no surprises), it was time to get to the more serious stuff .... (cue ominous music here)

I then had to de-robe completely and hop up on the lovely 'bed', complete with stirrups.... then lying back, legs splayed in the air and with everything on complete display to this sweet man who I have just spent 30-minutes having a polite conversation with. - Fun right? Surely he should at least have to buy me a drink first? (oh wait he is Moslem, so he doesn't drink. ) ;)

Then out came the dreaded SPECULUM....

Really why these things can't be made out of something softer and more comfortable I do not know?? It is 2007 after all! I feel like Jack the Ripper's next victim when this thing comes out.

So this cold hard, sterile stainless steel vice-grip gets inserted, and cranked open, with a few requests to 'cough please'. OK not too bad, I can breathe deeply and zone out, I do yoga, I have given birth... This is easy.

The pap smear is over in a jiffy. Hell there's nothing to that, it's just a swab of the cervix....

Then it was time to remove my old Mirena - using loooong scissor-like forceps. I was warned that it might have become embedded inside me, and may not be very easy or pleasant to remove. Thrilling. Of course I was expecting the worst, so I was pleasantly surprised when it came out with relative ease.

So far so good. But the fun was just beginning. The best was still to come. Read on. Before a Mirena can be inserted your cervix needs to be clamped, so that it stays still and so that the uterus stays in place. This is to make the insertion easier for the doctor, as the cervix and uterus are shy and private and try to get away when pursued, but more importantly it is done so that your uterus is not perforated as the Mirena is inserted. Didn't I say how much fun this is? Like a beach holiday on a tropical island!

So there I am legs in the air, cervix clamped, me breathing slowly and trying to pretend I am not really there - but assuring the good doctor I am just fine thanks (i.e. just get it over with dammit!). Ok, so now that the clamping is done it is time to measure my cervix and uterus. Why? Well so that the doc knows how far to insert the Mirena to get it in place and, you guessed it, to not perforate me in the process. The little measuring trick is done with what I can only guess is a copper rod - because that is what it looks like. So this lovely copper rod goes in and pokes around. Now note that a cervix really likes to be closed. That's its job to be closed and unless a baby is on it's way out, stay closed it normally does. So it doesn't like having a copper rod trying to make it be open. It's sore and damned uncomfortable! This goes on for some time, because apparently 'There's something blocking it'. Yay! That's just what you want to hear in that situation. After several failed attempts at this, the poor doc says, 'Um I am going to have to improvise something here'. Again yay, that's sounds great. I love improv!

So he leaps up and grabs the ultrasound machine, gels my stomach up and gets to work with the ultrasound machine. So now we have one hand driving the ultrasound, and one had driving the copper rod. Oh and don't forget the speculum and clamp, those are still faithfully helping too.

After trying for a bit, Doc decides he really needs 2 hands after all - so I have to drive the ultra sound! So there I am doing a half-crunch and holding the ultrasound transmitter in place and trying to stay dead still, while simultaneously trying to relaaax and not clench (now is not the time for those kegels) as he gets the measurement sorted out, while doing his best not to pierce right through me. 'Ommmmm'.

Finally he decides he has it figured out, so now we just have to get the new Mirena in. Again he gets the ultrasound image lined up and I take over and, and then in he goes. I am still stoically telling him I am 'fine' every few minutes. The Mirena manages to go in, and springs open once inside, causing some wonderful contractions. Then it's time to put a pair of looong scissors inside me to cut the strings. Hard to describe the fear of knowing there are SCISSORS in there!

But that's not all folks. No, he then really needs to make sure it is in place, and the normal ultrasound does not give a clear enough picture. So he has to do an internal ultrasound. Think that sounds like fun? Well lets imagine for a minute that you think having a rock-hard ultrasound wand inserted while you are cramping, and after all of the above, would be fun. Let me tell you it's not. Especially not the part where it gets ground around to try to 'find' your ovaries. Finally everything gets seen, and found to be in place, and working as expected. Whew.

And voila, easy as that a new Mirena!

It seems I behaved appropriately, as I was told afterwards that I am 'really brave'. So a noddy badge for me please.

If you have actually managed to read this I hope you can appreciate how seriously NOT FUN going to the gynaecologist is. It is something we do because we have to, not because we want to, or because we derive any pleasure what so ever from it.

* Too much information.
** I go about every second year - do you blame me?