On January 14th, I made the drive down to Roseville for my physical examination.  I ate a small breakfast, and after the two and a half hour drive, I was pretty much famished.  Thank God there was a crummy little gas station near the clinic.  Wading through the many different varieties of disgusting-flavored fiber and protein bars, I came out with something much more satisfying:

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Yellow Zingers.

The last time I had a yellow zinger was on a car ride down to the Sacramento Zoo on my best friend’s 16th birthday. I ate about a whole box and swore I’d never eat them again, but chowing down on them while parked outside the fertility clinic was an experience akin to nirvana. If you’ve never had one of these, I feel sorry for you. Just make sure you don’t eat a whole box when you do try them.

While I’m sure the preservatives and chemicals in the zingers probably diminished my reproductive capacity by at least 5%, I went ahead with the appointment anyway.  The nurse coordinator assigned to me was very nice and carefully explained the entire process.  Before I’m even chosen, I have to call her on the first day of every period so that she can consider whether or not to schedule me for hormone testing.  Apparently the birth control I’d been using up to that point was suppressing my hormones too much, so I have to switch to the pill for at least a month before I can have my hormone testing done.  Inconvenience #1:  Going from set-it-and-forget-it birth control to taking a pill every day at the same time.

Once a couple has chosen me, it’s time for Inconveniences #2-4: setting up appointments for (A) a consultation with a social worker in Roseville, (B) a 3 hour written psychological exam in Sacramento, (C) a consultation with a genetic counseler in San Anselmo, and (D) a legal consultation with an attorney in Oakland.  The good part is that all of these are totally free for me, I just have to drive around everywhere.

After then explaining the actual medication administering schedule and process (I get to give myself injections. Yay.), I was introduced to the physician assigned to me.  We talked a little bit about my medical history.  By “talked” I mean that he reviewed my medical history as a lightning-fast string of medical jargon topped with a heavy accent to boot hit me in the face, and I sat there and tried to wade through it.  After this, it was time for an ultrasound of my ovaries to determine if they were easily accessible.

Now, when I hear the word “ultrasound,” I think of an obstetric ultrasound.  You know, the kind that pregnant ladies get and which you always see in movies and TV.  The doctor always says, “This is just gonna be a little bit cold,” as he rubs gel on your belly and then slides this device known as a transducer over it.
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“The transducer will seduce ya!” as they say.

I was a little confused as I was putting on the requisite paper gown that the transducer looked nothing like the one above. The one in front of me looked more like a….stick blender.
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That’s the transducer on top and a stick blender on the bottom. I hope I’m not the only one who sees the resemblance.

Anyway, turns out that the stick blender was NOT going to be rubbed on my belly, but rather, jammed into my vagina in a rather unfriendly manner. Yeah. The doctor didn’t even warn me about that one.  The transducer will seduce ya, indeed.

Uncomfortably intimate experience with a stick blender aside, my ovaries are quite accessible and just begging to be chuck full of lil eggs.  Huzzah!

I was sent home with more paperwork than you can shake a stick at, which I’ll go over in another post.  As of right now, it’s kind of a waiting game.  I just have to fill out a bunch of forms and wait for some infertile future parents to pick me.  And not go into “walk of shame” mode whenever I see a stick blender.

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