Scene: 7 AM Monday morning, taking up space in the waiting room of a fertility clinic. At least three other women sit by themselves, ostensibly waiting for a needle to be shoved in their arm and/or a magic dildo to be shoved up their vagina. After 20 minutes of molding butt grooves into the chair, a heavyset, out-of-breath potential grandmother arrives with her skinny daughter and her Rod Blagojevich-haired son-in-law.
(tangible thud as Heavy Mom sits on a couch): If there's a heartbeat, I wanna see (gasp) it. If all you're gonna do is lie in the stirrups, I don't wanna (gasp) see that.
(Skinny Daughter picks lint off of her sweater as Rod B. stares at the ceiling)
Heavy Mom: Oh (gasp) look! 'How He Wants To See You Naked'! Let's read (gasp) this together!
Skinny Daughter: Ha, ha... OK.
Ultrasound tech (to me): Come on in.
(Rod B. watches my ass as I follow the nurse down the hall.)
Next up: Riding the gynie table horse, feet in stirrups. Some people get off on this. Ick.
(Nurse covers the 7 inch ultrasound wand with a condom and lube)
Me: Can I have the ribbed one this time?
(Nurse ignores me.)
Me: I meant to ask you the last time, is the camera lens on the tip?
Nurse: Pardon me while I stab you. (No, really.)
Me: That's not something anyone wants to hear.
Nurse: Well, you do want to hear this: Your lining is thick enough for transfer but embryology won't be ready for you until the end of the month. So keep taking your estrogen pills.
Me: But my cancer was practically made of estrogen. Who do I need to bribe to get moved up on the schedule?
Nurse: I don't know. Not me, though. (Withdraws wand, leaves the room)
Me (calls after her): You never told me where the flash button is!