What I learned for $40

Mook here with the most recent rendition of our topsy-turvy ride we call: gettin' knocked up...

So, I'm a pretty laid back guy. It takes a lot to get to me and even more to really piss me off (these factors will be handy for any empathy with the rest of this story). There are also a few life lessons listed below that you ladies might want to share with your hubby.

Being the ever prepared woman I fell in love with, JJ made a list of questions for me to ask this new "guru of the junk," making sure to include every detail since I really have no idea what have of the abbreviations mean. Of course, to calm her nerves, I had to call the main office number to confirm that A) the office closest to my work was available for the appointment and B) that all of the previously mentioned tests and analysis' could be performed with the utmost speed of a ninja. All of which had a residing positive response. JJ's mind was now at ease.

Well today was one of those days. The time had come for my prearranged "male private time in a public place." So, giddy as I was, I made my way across town to the newly recommended "peni handler".

Lesson number one: say no, no to any new docto'; Stick with what you know...

I filled out all the new paper work, sat in the impossible-comfort chairs, read the four month old magazines (which all seem to be female themed), and paid my waiting dues to the respective waiting room of said new doctor. About 30 minutes into my comfort seeking, my name was called. I made my way back to the exam room. (There's just something completely unnerving about sitting on a paper covered table/bench/bed/leaning post. - I was going for a combo, resembling that of the infamous cafegymatorium...but alas).

Anyway, my man shows up about twenty minutes later. Behind him was the intern. That's right, the intern. I have no problem with people learning, especially in the medical profession; but really, why today? Why me? Is my crotch odd in appearance or was I just the absolute perfect male specimen who was having his twig and berries checked out???? (I opted to believe the latter of these scenarios).

We then go through the normal questions that everyone gets with a new doctor. The doctor asked what kind of trouble I was having. "Well doc, my boys don't seem to like to swim." Dazed and apparently clearing an inner ear issue, the doctor just gazes over at me and responds, "Have you been seen for this before?" A little confused myself, I told him yes, and I explained again that this was a follow up visit for more current numbers and blood work since I had done all the "romance in a cup" and blood samples before and the only reason for my visit with him today was to accomplish those tiny sample provisions on JJ's provided checklist. He proceeded with some small talk and asked me to drop the shorts for a little examination. I did the ole turn and cough bit thinking how easy this was gonna be. Boy was I wrong...

Lesson number two: Never under any circumstance think a visit to a urologist will be easy.

Next he murmured, "Now turn around and place your elbows on the table." At that point I knew... The dreaded test was a comin' my way

Lesson number three and four: Never shake a doctors hand but always make sure the hands you aren't shaking are small...

Then he blew me away with the response, "Well, none of those tests can be done here. You'll have to go to another office with a lab for that." This was my second point of (pardon the pun) irritable bowl syndrome. I mean I did, in fact, make a phone call to this particular doctor, at this particular locale to be sure that all of these items would be handled at this particular appointment. Had I been mislead?? Luckily the receptionist was nice enough to make some calls and found a nearby lab for just such things.

Unfortunately, when the order was faxed for my requested test profile to the new place, neglect and disarray fell on me yet again. Here I was with a freshly filled cup of man juice and no protocol for what was needed. So I went back into my spiel of infertility and the need of some current data. Fortunately, the lab lady was a great person with a true connection to this Infertile-Myrtle lifestyle and she saw the look of discomfort and frustration on my face and took pity on me. She took all my bodily fluid samples and that was that. "It'll all get straight somewhere. Don't you worry about it." I love nice people!

So $40 later and a whole new meaning to the term "taking one for the team," I think I'll start drawing up plans for my own paper-free cafegymatorium...