clear doses of sympathy

So I had my tubes dyed... and twas with a small amount of disappointment that received the news that I would not be renovating my inner halls with a delicate shade of mauve or lime... but rather being squirted with a sticky clear goop that would only show up under xray... I mean, its up there with expecting a nightclub arm stamp that will demonstrated to all and sundry the next day that you've been a cool rager the night before ...and then getting one of those uv light things.

But ... I managed to sooth myself though the let down and well, let my pants down instead... and I am pleased to report that my years of dedication to meditation, yoga and the harmonising of my inner energies paid off - apparently I was the easiest hystercellopindagram (or whatever it was called) that they had ever done... calm and relaxed, I maintained my inner poise through the indignity, and had a lovely time watching my ever so pretty tubes turn black on the xray monitor... they really are ever so delicate and swirly.... I had envisaged sort of hoses, but in fact they are more like tendrils dancing above an orchid...

The most challenging part of the process I must say was not the being poked and prodded, blown up with a balloon, pumped with sticky goo and then cramping annoyingly afterwards... No - by far the worst bit for me was the terribly lovely supportive kind Doctor and Radiologist. Wonderful and understanding women they were... and MOST sympathetic that I was there alone... the radiologist came and stroked my shoulder when she realised I didn't have a support team to come into the room and hold my hand.... Now really... I know in my head that I am totally fine with going through this process in my own way and with the support of everyone, but that this is essentially my gig. I also know that the LAST thing I want when I am half naked and spread legged on a bench for half an hour is a support person holding my hand and blushingly averting their eyes... I mean its like ignoring the elephant in the room...

But it took me a good 24 hours to recover - not from the procedure, but from the emotional impact of being the object of such well meaning sympathy...

But... back on track now and in sane mind I am pleased to report.... :-)