Wednesday 20 March 2013

Semen Analysis day has arrived!

I don't think people who need fertility clinics are supposed to live in the suburbs.  See, suburbs are where you go when your family has outgrown your chic city flat and you want a back garden for your wee ones to run around in while mummy sips ceasars on the back deck.

We live in the suburbs.  This was especially irritating today when my husband had to present himself at the fertility clinic for his 7:30... errr... test.  And because it was his first visit he had to be at the hospital front desk by 7:00 to be registered and get a hospital card.  That's an hour from our house.  We are not morning people.

We were talking about his test last night.  I didn't know what to say... do I wish him luck?  Tell him to have fun?  It all seems a bit odd when he's about to make love to a plastic cup.

I can't help but be curious about the set up.  In my mind it should be red brocade like some den of inequity from Victorian England.  I expect stripper poles and video tapes (yup... i don't expect a dvd player for some reason), and probably even some curtain you can pull back for a peep show.   I basically think the man's side of the fertility clinic should share a wall with a strip club.  It might help to keep them interested.

Instead, it is reportedly a basic hospital exam room with some magazines spread on the doctor's desk.  My husband elected to bring his own visual aids... he downloaded a movie into his smart phone last night so that he wouldn't have to flip through the dog eared copies... although i find myself curious as to how old the magazines are.  Do they buy new ones every month?  Or have the same copies been there for decades.  And  why did he have to be there so early?  Is it really just a regular doctor's office from 9-5 and whichever doctor emptied the coffee pot without making fresh coffee yesterday is punished by having his or her office assigned to the early morning fertility men? 

I find myself sort of hoping that they will find our fertility issues are just because of my husband's previously too tight underpants.

No comments:

Post a Comment