Camping With Mom and Ultrasounds With Brenda

I just spent hours writing a blog post. I tried to preview and edit it and then…disaster.

It’s. All. Gone.

It was Witty. Sassy. Comedic Gold. Gold, I tell you. Verging on platinum.

However...

In it I did blame someone. I cast blame on a situation involving a person not treating my husband the way that they would like to be treated in turn. Perhaps in doing so, I did the exact same thing and maybe for that reason it is good to start fresh. It's food for thought.

I wanted to I write this new blog post as a way to get back into Logging. No, blogging. I'm not logging anything computer. I just switched over to using Google Chrome Docs to write. I did it for the reason that it saves every few minutes so I don't have to worry about losing the whole bloomin' thing again. I discovered that I can use voice to text and I don't have to type. This. Is. Fabulous. Except that I don't know how to make it go back and delete a word so blogging clearly turns into logging. I think I'll just call it writing instead of blogging. Or work on my annunciation. Perhaps that would be easier.

Michael and I started planning a trip to Nova Scotia back in January. My dear friend Melissa got engaged and asked me to be the Oldest Living Bridesmaid. Michael was asked to be the wedding photographer. We were so excited! I even rented a camper van! More about that later..,

Recently, things went amok and Michael is no longer able to come on the trip with me. We are very disappointed but after exhausting every option we had to call it and make other arrangements.

I asked my mom if she would consider going with me and she jumped at the chance to take a trip with her favorite kid. (Read: after several days of waffling back and forth and even trying to convince me to take my her 87 year old mother instead, she finally decided to put on her big girl panties, pack up her essential oils and embark on an adventure with her flaky eldest daughter.)

Remember how I rented a camper van? Yeah... that becomes a problem. In retrospect, I probably wouldn't have rented it had I been planning to take the trip with my mom instead of my husband. Michael and I really enjoy camping together. We wanted to relive some memories of the big trip that we took and the many beaches that we camped on. It loses a little something when you have to talk your mother into sharing the one bed in the camper van with you. (Let's keep in mind that I have irritable bowel syndrome, lactose intolerance, and a propensity for nudity-especially while sleeping.) Diane is one LUCKY lady. It seemed like such a good idea at the time to eschew hotel and rental cars in favor of one vehicle that serves the purpose of both transportation and shelter. I was really happy to not need to be packing up every morning and lugging suitcases to and from different hotels every day! No-one ever sleeps well the first night in any hotel and we will not be in the same area for longer than one night anytime except for the day of the wedding.

I decided a couple of days ago that I should call and check on my reservation. It turns out that being super cheap, I had taken the package where you don't actually know which vehicle you are going to end up in until the afternoon that you actually pick your RV up. The only thing that I now know for sure is that we will NOT be getting the camper van. We will be getting either a 25 or 27 foot little motorhome.

On the plus side, it has two beds! The downside Is that although I am not afraid to drive it at all, I AM afraid to park it! What happens if I need to parallel park a motorhome? Is that even a thing?  

Mom claims she is neither driving nor navigating. Pray for us. Pray hard. This trip will probably lead to many good stories, but they could be dicey in the making.

FUN FACT: Although we are both experienced RV'ers, Mom and I have never emptied the poop tank. (It's clearly a Blue Job.) Have you ever watched the Robin Williams movie RV? If not, load it up and give it a watch. When you reach The Scene (you will know which one I mean) maybe consider REALLY praying that some Poop Tank Angels come down with their Industrial Strength Rubber Gloves and give us a hand. Maybe not a LITTERAL hand....because, ew...but some help none-the-less.

I also talked the rental company into giving us two free convenience packages. This means we won't need to run around purchasing camping supplies in Nova Scotia. It would have been really inconvenient not have the convenience packages...I love a good play on words. (I realize this was not one.)

Yesterday, I popped in to visit a friend at her work. We had a rather uncomfortable conversation there.

When girls get to a certain age they tend to need ultrasounds for less exciting reasons than we do in younger years. My friend and I have both needed such ultrasounds in the recent past. In both cases it caused tears.

Her mom cried because she has a very real case of Granny Fever and thought that perhaps her dreams were about to be realized. They are not.

My daughter cried because she has a very real case of not wanting to admit that her parents enjoy each other in a physical way and not wanting another sibling. One of her dreams will be realized. She will not be getting any more siblings.

Unfortunately for both my friend and I, there were issues in receiving a traditional ultrasound and we had to move on to the internal type. In case you've never been privy to an internal ultrasound, let me fill you in.

The technician applies an actual condom and a large amount of lubricating gel to a wand that is inserted in your nether regions and used to explore your Lady Bits. It is invasive and uncomfortable. It is also highly humiliating to have another person insert a wand into your most private areas and slide it in and out and twist it all around. I'll just leave that here for you to ponder...

Having this procedure done left me with a few questions:

1. Do ultrasound technician actually receive any anatomy lessons while they are in school?
2. Is it inappropriate to question how high of a standing in the graduating class your ultrasound technician received?
3. Why would anyone giving an internal ultrasound think that preserving my dignity was at the top of my priorities list? Because it's not. I want you to strap a Miner's light to your forehead and get under that sheet with me. I have three children and I have pooped myself in public. (The IBS, remember.) I have no dignity left to preserve. None. Zero.
4. Has anyone ever told you even once that saying "Just take a deep breath and relax" was helpful? If they did they are dirty dirty liars. Thank you Brenda. I didn't even think of just taking a deep breath and relaxing. Being an uptight control freak has worked so well for me in all of my previous Medical Treatments that I thought I would just continue down that road for this one as well, but I see now that your way might be better.
5. What did you think I meant when I yelled "WRONG HOLE" three times in quick succession and scooted off of the head of the bed like a cat getting a worm pill? For future reference, anyone who says that is ALWAYS sure that yes, it is indeed the wrong hole. I have never taken an anatomy class in my life, but even I know that that particular route is not the off-ramp to the uterus.
6. Was it because of  my experience in your cubicle that my friend was handed the magic wand and told to just pop it in herself so that you could have a little look-see?

These are most of my questions. In the interest of causing as little offense as possible I will not  try to think of any more.

Think of me while I'm traveling Nova Scotia.

Think of my Mom, too. Pray that she has patience. Apparently, I can be a bit much. (No, really!)

Also, think of me when you're getting an internal ultrasound. It will take your mind off things and help you to just relax like Brenda advises.