ABOUT ME

About me: My husband Chuck, our six-year-old Junior, our three-year-old Everette and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.

Monday, June 28, 2010

As usual, things started off well in Mulletville. Then I heard the word vagina used as a verb

On Friday, I went for another ultrasound. Because of my “advanced maternal age” (35 years and 6 months, thank you very much), I had to go to a specialist in Mulletville.

Things started off on the right foot. They had a walker and a chilled Ensure waiting for me. Then the doctor opened the door. She was dressed in platform shoes and a Go-Go dress, like this



“Hi, sweetie!” she said.

I looked around. Surely she could not be talking to me. One cannot be dubbed “advanced” and referred to as “sweetie.” The terms are diametrically opposed. Kind of like “happy” and “Mulletville” are.

She ushered me into the exam room. Then she roller-derbied the shit out of my stomach.

“This kid is stubborn!” she shouted. “It won’t move!” She plugged in the audio. “Oh, good. We have a heartbeat.”

Nothing like shooting a lightening bolt of fear into a women who’s had a miscarriage. I started to hate her.

She called for reinforcements—I thought to help navigate the machine but instead she wanted to bitch about her job. “Where’d Dr. X go this afternoon? Golfing?” she growled to Nurse A. “And when do we get paid? I don’t know if I can make it on this salary—”

“—Excuse me,” I mumbled. “Could you pay attention? You’re rolling over my breast, not my stomach.”

“Sorry, honey!”

Before I tell you what happened next, I need to tell you a quick side story. When I was in high school, there was a boy whose last name was Vaginitis or Vagisnuffleupagus—something awful like that—so his friends gave him the nickname “Vag.”

Nothing beat hearing “Yo, Vag! VAG!” as you made your way to class. Ironically, his social standing actually increased, perhaps because people assumed that someone nicknamed Vag was getting laid a lot. Some days I actually envied his nickname. People thought I was Amish. Being called Vag might have been good for me, too.

Or maybe not. Maybe they would have assumed I had elephantiasis of the labia.

Anyway, after turning my stomach black and blue without achieving the results she was looking for, the doctor wiped her brow and said, “Hike up your skirt, hon. I’m going to have to vag you.” (As in vaginal ultrasound me. For any of Chuck’s male friends who might be reading this, I’m sorry if you just threw up your lunch.)

And of course, after I thought, “Ewwww. Vag me?”, I thought of good ole Vag. I wondered where he was. How he was doing. I thought about how he’s my friend on Facebook, and I wondered if he’d appreciate a message:

“Funniest thing, Vag! I know we haven’t spoken in 16 years, but I was lying in the Mulletville OB-GYN and the Go-Go doctor turned to me and said...”

Heh. Facebook.

After a grueling internal ultrasound (during which the doctor invited someone else in— I’d forgotten how pregnancy shreds you of any decency), she finally got the picture she was looking for. She told me, based on her preliminary findings, that she wasn’t going to red flag my child as being a four-headed, half-gecko, half-orangutan Frankenstein baby. She wouldn’t tell me everything looked good, just that she wasn’t going to red flag it.

At that point I was ready to whack her over the head with the vag wand. Then she said, “Do you want to know the sex?”

My heart skipped a beat. I started to sweat. My dentures clacked with excitement. “Yes!”

“It’s a...”

Oops, gotta run. Vag just emailed me back. He finally wants to sign my yearbook!

21 comments:

Jenni said...

You got vag-ed, HA!

Jessica Warrick said...

Oh come on all that lead into and no results... your cruel really cruel...lol

Magpie said...

In the infertility world, one calls that the dildo cam...and you get vag-ed lots.

Mama Badger said...

So wrong in so many ways. I can't even wrap my mind around that.

Though, if it makes you feel better, our substitute pediatrician got nicknamed "Dr. Sassy Pants" for her silky purple knee pants. Oh, and for complimenting my husband on his youthful good lucks while I was standing there holding a 2 month old and about 20 lbs of maternity weight... I suppose I could have just called her the "B..ch"

Stacie said...

Ah yes, the dildo cam. I remember those days, not being far along enough to have my belly u/s.

How exciting that you know the gender!

Stacie's Madness said...

roflmao.
Let me vag you. Seems I've heard that one before.

rachel... said...

How far along are you? I can't believe she could see the gender already by ultrasound. You must be farther along than I thought.

♥Georgie♥ said...

ooooooooooooo man...way to leave us hangin...

Pricilla said...

You are baaaaad.
Well, at least you know what color to buy now.

As I get older and I am older it is really hard to deal with doctors so much younger than myself. You just want to slap 'em.

The Mother said...

Vaginal us post-dated my pregnancies. Which was just fine with me.

I did, however, have a urodynamics test a couple of years after my last one. Now, THAT is an invasive, intrusive procedure. And you're talking to a lady who volunteered for pelvic exams by med students.

Lindy said...

Why would you assume that it's only Chuck's friends that would vomit their lunch while reading that?

Texan Mama @ Who Put Me In Charge said...

I wonder if Vag ever used his name as a verb, as a pick up line.

"Hey, Do I know you? Have you ever been Vag-ed?"

I don't know if I should be more surprised that the Mulletville doctor was dressed to go out to a honkey tonk bar for cocktails at lunch, or that Mulletville actually has an OB specialist.

Julia said...

That ultra sound was the WORST.

Nuf said.

kyooty said...

I've never said "yes" to any of the extra testing offered so no vag for me.

jadenotjaded said...

haha! I got vag-ed too! But hey..you can't leave us hangin like this...tell us...what is Vag up to??

Keely said...

I've had 3 of those ultrasounds in the last year and never once has anybody referred to it as being "vag'd". Of course, nobody has been wearing go-go boots either, so maybe Mulletville is just cooler than Canada. Up on all the slang, and so forth.

You're going to let ME know what flavor you're having, right??

Lisa said...

Oooh, quite the Momhanger you left us with there. I mean, cliffmommer. Er, moffhanger?

Little Ms Blogger said...

I wonder if "vag" will make it as a verb in other arenas? I'm going to "vag" lunch now or will you "vag" the dishes?

So many options.....

Dysfunctional Mom said...

Not nice! The doctor 'vagging' you (gag) OR you teasing us like that. You Vag Tease!

Mad Woman said...

Oh you cow bag. I feel like *I* just got vag-ed after that bail out!

Do you have to continue seeing the Go-Go Girl or will that be the last you see of her?

Ms. Salti said...

The vag wand. I'm gonna go buy one just to start beating people with it!