“It’s about the size of a tampon,” the ultrasound tech said as she left the examination room. She had instructed me to pee – of which I was very grateful – get undressed from the waist down, lie back down on the examination table and cover myself with the sheet.
After doing all that, I lay silently and stared around the room. It had been about twelve years since I had been in an ultrasound examination room. The last time had been when I was pregnant, in pre-term labor at 30 weeks and the doctors were afraid I was losing my baby. Back then, I had only had the external exam with the stunningly cold, gooey gel and a big-headed microphone-looking thingie. There had been no internal exam and I wasn’t prepared to have anything stuck up inside my vagina – tampon-sized or not.
She walked in moments later nonchalantly waving around a wicked looking baton. She was so casual about the way she wielded her weapon, I almost was able to convince myself that it wasn’t the “tampon-sized” instrument of which she had spoke. I certainly had never seen a tampon that big before!
“I’m going to put some cold gel on the end of this, then I will hand it to you under the sheet for you to insert.”
She had been messing around out of my line of vision so I wasn’t sure what the “that” was to which she referred. When she stepped out from behind the machine, to my utter horror, she held the same evil wand erect. It was coated in a medical condom, glistening with goopy gel and I about shot through the ceiling.
“Tampon?! That’s the biggest fucking tampon I have ever seen!”
She giggled. “It only goes in to about here,” she indicated about two inches from the tip. It was, approximately eighteen inches long so I was relieved to see that, although I didn’t really believe her that it was only going in two inches. However, it wasn’t the length that bothered me because I knew, logically, that it would only go in as deep as I was and, truthfully, I ain’t all that deep. What horrified me was the girth. That sucker was at least the size of an erect penis and I wasn’t feeling sexual or open at the moment. Nor could I remember ever using a tampon that was that… wide.
Being a woman, I’ve come to discover, has its drawbacks and its benefits. I am amazed at what my body does and, yet, it’s really not fun to be felt up – from the inside out – by an inhuman, unbending, unforgiving tool that looks like a glow-in-the-dark Billy Club. She rotated the tool around inside my uterus, explaining she was trying to find my left ovary that seemed to be hiding from her. Ovary?! Is it located in my upper ribcage??!
After having intercourse with an ultrasonic device, without a kiss and without an orgasm, the exam was declared complete and my mortification gratefully came to an end. I wondered obscenely for a moment about what I could have sexually accomplished with that tool had she left me to my own devices. No such hope. She took the machinery with her and I was left to clean off the residual goo and gather myself back together.
