Balltrasound

Since getting the news that I don't have cancer, my life has become substantially easier to deal with. At the risk of using a cliche, it's like the weight of the world has been taken off my shoulders. If I take into account my belief that everything happens for a reason, I think the purpose of the cancer investigation was to put our fertility issues into perspective for us. Somehow, big issues like infertility don't seem as big when you're not battling cancer. K and I are ready now for whatever they can throw at us...at least I hope we are.

 

My last test before following up with the fertility clinic again was a scrotal ultrasound, or as K likes to refer to it, my "balltrasound". This isn't the first time I've had to undergo a procedure like this. As I indicated previously, I was referred for a scrotal ultrasound to confirm my nut infection about ten years previous so I'm not entirely new to the procedure.

 

Straight jacket pose

I drove over to the Hys Centre about 15 minutes from work and made my way to the second floor. Reception checked me in and I sat down in the waiting room which was busy and much larger than I was used to. I did some more waiting, but realized waiting doesn't really bother me as much anymore. The staff member called my name from the corner of the waiting room along with another patient and she ushered us both into a back hallway lined with change rooms. She handed me a blue gown, pointed to a change room and told me to take off everything from the waist down, put on the gown, and wait for the tech to come get me. I was so close to asking for pajama pants but decided against it; I was pretty sure I wouldn't need them given the reason for my visit. I struggled, however, with the gown. I tried this straight jacket on probably six different ways before tying what looked to be the matching strings together and sitting down feeling defeated. I'm positive I didn't put it on properly because it looked like one of my togas the morning after a high school party. I was pretty sure it wouldn't matter though, as long as I was able to flash the tech sufficiently.
 



Can't see into the future, just into my balls

The tech called my name in the hall and I exited to find a middle aged woman with librarian glasses smiling at me. She led me to a room at the end of the hall, closed the door behind us and handed me a towel. The next part was totally different than my prior experience. Her instructions were clear; I was to hike up my gown, lay down on the bed, pull my penis up onto my abdomen and cover it with the towel. I was halfway there when she got startled and said "wait! wait!". I stopped dead, afraid I had messed something up, apparently she was used to much more shy men than myself because what she wanted was to unfold and hold up the sheet she was holding in front of her to give me some privacy. I waited till she was ready and then followed her instructions. What followed, though, really made me wonder why she was being so discreet in the first place because her next instruction was to reach down and hike up my scrotum so she could tuck the sheet under it. I was thinking to myself, "my dignity is as intact as its going to get, lets just get this over with".

 

Since my last ultrasound one thing for sure has changed, they now use a heated jelly, which gave me an instant flashback to the original American Pie movie. I mean, had it not been for the awkward lady holding a camera to my junk, it might have actually been pleasant. She took her time, which I actually appreciated because I wanted this done right the first time. Check one side, then the other, I heard her snap a handful of pictures on each side and she made sure to check with the doctor before sending me on my way. I cleaned myself up with the towel she gave me, made my way back to my change room, put my clothes back on and was released with a severe craving for some apple pie.