The Classiest Chick in Radiology

So, how was YOUR morning? For reasons too boring to enumerate, I had a bilateral leg ultrasound today. All went well and I am just fine, except for feeling a little bit of that "bad touch" feeling in my tummy.

I don't know what I was expecting from a leg ultrasound (duh!) but I guess I was envisioning more of a greasy-legged x-ray or something. Oh my hell, y'all. This was the full-on K-Y situation and no mistake. My technician guy looked like a dead ringer for Alton Brown of the Food Network. So that started the proceedings off a little weird. Then he said, "okay, take off your pants, put on this gown and get on the bed." Fair enough. Then he brings out the squeeze bottle of joy jelly and starts wetting my legs. Only, it wasn't just my legs.

Hmm...how to describe this? You know that part of your leg near your hips that isn't your leg? The part that is kind of your hoo-ha but not your hoo-ha? Like, he had the monitor pressing into that part of my inner thigh/leg/pelvis that, if my va-jay-jay were a house, would be the in-law suite over the garage? Like, definitely not your Capital P Privates, but certainly a place that sure feels like it ought to be private!? That's where it all started. With K-Y jelly. With Alton Brown. Awesome. The most awkward part, besides a strange man pushing a hard object into my va-jay-jay's vicinity? It was tickling me and I could not stop laughing.

I think we've established through my various medical undressed events, that when I get nervous I find everything funny, but this was excruciatingly awkward because I could not stop flinching from the tickling and then couldn't stop laughing from a)the tickling and b)the nervousness resulting from me laughing from the tickling. Luckily for me, Alton was a consummate (did I just say consummate?!) professional. Unluckily for him, I was not.

So, laughter notwithstanding, Alton did his thing, going up and down both legs checking for whatever he was checking for. At one point it had taken so long that I was starting to get nervous, like has he found a bunch of blood clots? Do I have the first ever case of vein cancer? Can he not see my veins through my thigh fat? Finally he finished and said, "sorry that took so long, I just like to be thorough." To which, as I lay on the bed with my legs spread, K-Y jellied from v-j-j to ankle, I answered without thinking, "No. No. That's cool. I always appreciate a man who's thorough."