In the land down under with Mrs Tink

As many of you know after having a baby things tend to change down there……….. Don’t make me spell it out…….Yes there!

Now I’m not what you would call an educated person when it comes to my own body, especially the area’s that are not clearly visible to me. I would go as far to say that I am actually quite a prude, and simply not overly keen to see any unseeable areas of my body. They are unseeable for a reason. Even during labour when asked would I like a mirror I scrunched my nose up, I would live another day without looking.

However after having my first baby my Obstetrician suggested that I take a look in a hand mirror if I felt anything was out-of-place. Now to a prude like me that request can only be attempted after many, many glasses of wine. This was the only way I could find the Dutch courage needed to bring out the compact mirror. (I’m feeling the need for a wine right now just thinking about looking in a mirror)

So after a vino or 3, I finally found the courage to take a trip down under to see what I needed to see. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw and just as I was about to put the mirror back I see “ it ”… I see what looks like a white lump. A white lump! So as you can imagine I am now instantly hysterical, tipsy and standing over a compact mirror thinking the worst is here.

Pale as a ghost I call my best friend and tell her she is going to have to deal with this for me. I am passing her the torch or in this case the compact mirror. Terrified at what I’m suggesting my beautiful bestie convinces me to make an appointment with the doctor to have it checked as she wanted no part of diagnosing me. After much detailed description of what I had seen and the endless possibilities of my condition, my friend is now just as worried as I am and she insists I do not tell Mr Tink until I know more.

So I make the call and they have one appointment available, it is not with my regular doctor but it’s an emergency and I’m not in the mood to be picky so I take it and spend the next few hours feeling sick.

Finally it’s time for my appointment and I start driving there in absolute hysteria and not really concentrating. In typical Nat form I take a wrong turn and add another 10 minutes to the trip.

On arrival I have a very very cranky doctor waiting for me who is huffing and puffing. She is standing there with hands on hips steaming that I am late. Obviously she had not been sent the memo that I  was “slightly” upset and needed to be treated with kid-gloves. She starts asking me questions in a huffy voice, rolling her eyes and then screams at me to strip off. This does not compute in my mind and I will not just “strip off” for anyone! Especially someone who is being so nasty to me. So I say “don’t worry I’ll leave it for today”, fighting back the tears and wishing Nina Proudman would walk through the door, or even Dr Clegg at this point.

The evil doctor takes pity on me and my tears and nicely coaxes me up onto the bed, this works a lot better for me and now she can see this is a serious problem, so I gingerly undress ready for some answers.

As I lie there she asks me to point to where the lump is. I follow her instructions and point… there is only silence… Then she gets a torch and once again asks is the lump here, I reply yes. Still silent she asks me to put my clothes on and she will be with me in a minute. My brain is spinning out of control …, what on earth is wrong with me????? Silence can only mean bad news, I can feel myself ready to faint.

She walks over to her bookcase and pulls out a huge book and I feel myself ready to pass out. “Now she says can you see this”? I nod barely able to breathe – she says “this is your Urethra” .

At this point I am dizzy and drawing a blank, the only “Urethra” I know is the singer Aretha Franklin … maybe she has a body part named after her or something?

The doctor continues “this lump is your Urethra, it is a permanent fixture of your body and in fact if you didn’t have one I would be really worried” she giggled! (Now Miss cranky giggles!)

Red faced and barely able to move I was too embarrassed to respond, she stood up and said “thank you Mrs Tink you made my day”…

I think the moral here is look “properly” and google before you leap!

One thought on “In the land down under with Mrs Tink

  1. Beth Mathews says:

    That must have been a scary experience, and I am sorry the doctor found it amusing – it is really hard to get ‘private’ stuff checked at the best of times, and it increases the embarrassment/shame if you feel you are being laughed at. I think many of us don’t have much idea about our bodies and how they work in general, but especially the more intimate areas. I was a physiotherapist, and was amazed in antenatal and postnatal care how many of us don’t know what is ‘down there’, and what it looks like and what it looks like after you have pushed a baby out. So you aren’t alone, and good on you for getting things checked out, it is always better to be a bit embarrassed than leave lumps etc to chance. (It isn’t exactly the same, but I rushed to the gp hysterically one day convinced I had cancer because I found a ‘lump’ under my arm… it took her a long time to convince me it was just an ingrown hair that hadn’t come to a head yet 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s