My appointment was at 11, which is apparently around when the clinic escorts and protesters pack up their bags and go home.
There were a few lingering protesters chitchatting with eachother but not really bothering anyone (or at least not bothering me). I was a little more intimidated about having to go past protesters since I was going by myself this time and I didnt see any of my orange-vested friends, but it wasn't really a problem.
The clinic escort volunteers were inside, also chitchatting, and packing up their little orange vests for next time.
When I signed in I tried to get help with the insurance issue:
"Yea, you guys sent a $1,000+ bill to my insurance company even though I already payed for the abortion when I was here (and it was $525, not $1000+). Why? Can you un-do that?" but they pretty quickly let me know that this wasn't their problem, and gave me the number to the billing office. I'll tackle that problem later because I have a cold, and am just not feeling up for it.
They called my name after a while, I peed in a cup, they pricked my finger to do some blood test, took my temperature and bloodpressure.
I was really hoping I would get to keep my pants on for the whole appointment, but no, I had to get an ultrasound. Continuing the trend of stressing me out with ultrasounds, the lady who did the ultrasound had this conversation with me:
"Do you have ovarian cysts or something?" she says with furrowed brow.
"Um, I don't know. I don't know what that means."
"Well, there is something on your ultrasound. It isnt a pregnancy, but there is something there. You may need to talk to your regular gynecologist about this."
Ooooooookay. Then I was sent to the recovery room, which is the waiting room with the reclining chairs and heat pads for everyone. Very nice place, but one girl was puking every now and then into a red biohazard bag.
I was there for about an hour, and then they sent me and the 3 other women who didnt need the fancy chairs and heating pads back to the regular waiting room which was jam packed. I waited there for another hour.
An older woman was there with her daughter (I think), and was talking loudly about the importance of choice (amongst other things). She said when she was a teenager, she had friends getting abortions in back alleys and she was always scared for them, knowing what a huge risk it was. "Women have to have a choice, and I'm so glad it's safe now for women to make choices." I wanted to talk to her more and hear her stories, but I was feeling a little shy.
While I sat in the waiting room, I couldn't help but wonder what the hell was on my ultrasound. My "not-pregnancy". I texted my boyfriend about it, and he texted back, "what could it be? Is it a tumor?" I tried not to worry, because I have no idea what sorts of things can be floating around in or on wombs, and maybe there are some perfectly harmless things. But generally, I was pretty stressed out about it.
Eventually my name was called (it had been about 2 hours since my ultrasound). Me and one other young woman were called back, and waited in the room where my blood was taken earlier.
"Is this your follow up?" She asked, and I said yes. "Which kind did you have?"
"The medical kind" I said.
She said, "me too. Was it really bad?"
"No," I said, "not too bad."
"Oh, mine was kinda bad."
"Did it hurt a lot?" I asked.
"Yea, I mean, it wasn't sooo bad, but for the first few hours-"
The nurse came in and interrupted her, and took me back to an exam room. I wanted to hear what this young woman had to say because I have no one else to compare abortion pill stories with at this point, and I bet she has no-one either. Typing into the void is somewhat helpful, but what I really want is to be able to talk. And I also really want to listen. I just want women to be able to talk to eachother, but I know for most of us we have to keep our lips sealed to protect us from other people's judgement. So chances for conversations like the one we almost had are rare, and I was genuinely sad to lose the chance to continue talking.
The doctor came in and asked how it went, I said fine, and asked what was on my ultrasound. "Oh, nothing" he said.
"Nothing? She said there was something there." The "she" I was referring to was in the room but said nothing. I don't know what her background is- if she is a nurse or what.
"It looks fine to me. Sometimes they just look like that. What kind of birth control do you use or do you want to start using?" (Wait, look like what? huh?)
"I want the NuvaRing," I said, instead of pushing for a better explanation of my ultrasound.
"Ok," he said. Shook my hand, and left.
A little while later I was given my prescription.
I thought about my 2 minute doctor appointment that I had waited several hours for, and was generally dissatisfied. I had been given too much time to worry about my "not pregnancy" to just accept that all was fine. And I was still supremely cranky about the insurance mess up, and the combination made me feel generally distrustful of the clinic. So I asked for a copy of the ultrasound, filled out the necessary paperwork to get copies released to me, and left.
I am not 100% sure what to do with the ultrasound photos. I think I will bring them to a different gyno when I go to get a papsmear, and just ask them to take a look and tell me what they think. I would normally go to planned parenthood for gyno appointments, but I wonder if I should find a different place to get my 2nd opinion.
So that's it for now. Thanks for reading.
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