Today, I’m sick at home with a 2-year-old. We are watching movies all day and eating candy I bought on clearance at Target yesterday. I could use a good laugh. So, I decided to share with everyone about the day I learned my uterus is falling out. Completely logical place to go, I know.
WARNING: You’re about to be smacked in the face with a giant bag of “TMI”. if you can’t handle the heat, Back slowly out of the kitchen.
Have you ever seen “Dumb & Dumber”? This story should have been in there somewhere. Mary could have had her uterus fall out or something. It would have worked great. I digress…
Nobody likes going to the “Big-Girl Doctor”. It’s a fact of life. To all you young ladies out there: It doesn’t get any better. I mean, you care less that someone is LITERALLY all up in your business. But, you still put it off, just like the first time you have to call when you’re 18 and mommy isn’t there to hold your hand and make the appointment for you.
“I just love going to the gynecologist!” said nobody. ever.
I finally went, after rescheduling, TWICE. The doctor finishes up and lifts her head above the paper blanket(do they really think that helps us feel more decent? I mean, really? Do they?) and gives me a confused look for a few seconds. I’m thinking, “Ummm… Hi. Remember me? How can I help you?…” Then she snaps out of it and says,
“Has a doctor ever mentioned ‘Prolapse’ to you?”
My mind goes blank. I feel like somehow this is a trick question and no matter what I say she’s going to laugh at me and tell all of her doctor friends about the “half-naked lady who didn’t know what ‘Prolapse’ was.” later over drinks.
“Umm… No?…” I’m sure I had a super interesting look on my face when I said that, because I certainly had some super interesting things going on in my brain.
“It’s just that your cervix(There it is! TMI! Can I even write a post with that word in it?!) isn’t as far up as it should be.”
Ladies(and a few very brave Gentlemen), I do not pay attention to my female anatomy. I prefer to keep it clean and go about my life pretending it doesn’t’ exist. So, I just stared at her when she said this to me. COMPLETELY BLANK STARE. Not one of my finer moments.
Don’t feel too bad for me, she quickly picked up my total confusion and eased my fears by telling me, “Well, it usually only happens to MUCH OLDER women. Like, 80 years old even. In medical school I worked in an assisted living center, I met a sweet 84-year-old woman who had a Total Prolapse. She would just be laying in her bed when I came to check on her and her uterus was just laying there between her legs on the sheets. I always felt so bad for her. When you get older, the muscles that hold your uterus in place become weak. The uterus can start to drop and it can fall completely out, like hers had.”
Two things went through my head very quickly.
First, “Why the HECK was her uterus just laying there?! That CANNOT be sanitary! Throw it away, folks! It’s not like she’s using it! Does she want to keep it close like a pet or something? Does your uterus falling out make you have strange life choices?! If so, I’m in serious trouble!”
Second, “What is wrong with my freaking lazy uterus?! I am 33 years old! It’s just giving up like I’m 84! Hello! Uterus!? The party isn’t over! You still have to stick around and make my life miserable by giving me a period for years to come! Stop being such a useless quitter! Stand up and fight! Stupid, lazy uterus!”
I walked in the door and pronounced to my husband,
“Hey Babe! Apparently, I have a geriatric uterus. Because, the doctor told me it’s old and is slowly falling out of my vagina.”
It was payback time then, because now I was on the receiving end of the “Blank Stare”.
He is far too used to my shenanigans though, he recovered much more quickly than I had.
After “Googling it” and learning that I would not be dying tomorrow, I went back to business. Which is all that can be done. Until that fateful day…
So, If one day you’re talking to me and I suddenly interrupt you by saying, “Oh! Please excuse me. My uterus has just fallen out into my underwear.” please don’t think I’m rude. Also, please don’t let them put me in a bed with it laying there like some homicidal house cat who thinks it’s the boss of my vagina. Throw that thing in the trash and take me out for pancakes.
Then vow never to speak of my uterus again.