Our Visit to the Ultrasound Tech

Today was Diane's ultrasound.

We probably should have gotten up, eaten breakfast together, had devotions, prayed and then headed off to the doctor. But we didn't.

For some reason we both got up like normal, had our coffee, got ready and left. I think maybe the idea of what we were going to go do or possibly find out was too big and ominous to allow "normal" into our lives.

I feel kind of bad about that. I'll do better next time.

Anyway, we got there a bit late and quite surprisingly got right in. I figured we'd do penance for arriving late - like an additional 45 minutes of waiting, but not this time.

It felt like any other day when you go to a doctor's office. People doing their work, setting up machines, working on computers, etc. We were there for an ultrasound, but we weren't there to look for a baby. We were there to look for a tumor. I wanted to tell them all to pay attention. We were in the building and this was important. But I didn't. Diane was glad.

It was odd to sit there and watch as the lady moved the wand around Diane's belly just like she had 19, 17 and 16 years ago when they were looking for our kids. I didn't like it when the monitor showed fuzzy images, one of which I knew wasn't supposed to be there. I had a million questions racing through my mind. Questions like, "Which one is it? The black one on the left or the oval on the right? If it isn't the one on the right then what exactly is that thing? It's not a baby right? No, must not be...the lady hasn't fallen off her stool yet."

The tech took pictures and measurements of the fuzzy thing on the left side, so I eventually figured that was the culprit that had brought us here. I finally got up the courage to ask if that was it and she said it was. I was surprised. My past experience has been that Ultrasound techs either don't know much English (that's not a slam against anyone - they just tend to not talk much), or they really take that "Thou Shalt Not Tell the Big Secrets" promise seriously.

The morning took a turn when the tech couldn't find Diane's ovaries. She looked and looked but they were in hiding. She finally told us she thought one of them was back behind "a plume of Bowel Gas". The other was just MIA. I told her we hadn't had any problem finding them back when we needed them for making children. She laughed and then told Diane we were going in for a closer look. It turned out to be about as bad as it sounds. And the bad thing is, I"m not sure she ever did find those stinking ovaries!

When the whole experience was over I brought Diane home and she went to bed. She was fairly worn out, both emotionally and physically. I sat at the computer to study, but found my mood to be rather blue. I didn't like it.

After lunch I took her to work, but I could tell she was different. She wasn't herself. I left feeling concerned.

So now we wait.

And you know how that goes. In your mind you see images of the place where the person reads the scans. And you see him come to the scans of your wife and you think, "Be careful there buddy. That's my wife's scans you're looking at." Or you wonder why it takes so long. Why do you have to wait? Don't they know that waiting is a form of ancient torture? Do they enjoy making you wait? Surely the system can't be THAT backed up right? I'm convinced it's all a medical field conspiracy. After our last 5 hour wait in the Emergency Room I swore I'd never go back to that place again!

But the doctor said she'd be in touch and so we'll wait. We trust her. And we know that sometimes no news is good news, right? And we know also that God is in this deal and we trust Him even more than the doctor and so we'll wait on Him too.

Just don't be too long God, okay?