Infertility sucks. Yes, we also all know that. Some moments over the past few weeks have been so serious, and so dark, that I literally need a giggle. I need to laugh at something or with someone to break up all the tension. Maybe I should squeak out a fart during one of my ultrasounds? Too much?
I’ve been researching specialists lately, because I’m not sure about the doctor we are currently seeing. His online reviews (which I just recently discovered) are so odd. This guy is a one man shit show. A reviewer said she asked him about pricing, and he said anyone that needs to ask about prices should go elsewhere.
That’s not nice nor is it funny, Dr. DICK.*
Another reviewer said she brought medical files into her consultation, and he suggested perhaps she go on OCD medication, because apparently her files were overly organized.
Ok, stop the presses.
Could it be? Dr. Dick tried to make a funny and failed miserably? That in itself makes me laugh. Maybe I’ve just seen too many Judd Apatow movies, but come on. He’s ruthless! She comes in to talk about her dysfunctional left ovary, and he’s cracking OCD jokes. OMG.
I’m not completely relying on random online reviews. I have my own thoughts on the situation after having talked to Dr. Dick a couple of times. Here’s how I see it. This is the person that we are entrusting to help us with one of the most important projects of our lives. The fact that his ridiculously inflated egotistical personality is like a highlight reel of all of the guys I dated in high school is probably not a good sign. That’s my gut talking, and I’ve got to listen.
So I’ve got my research cap on, and I’m looking at other options.
I sat down in front of my laptop, and one of the first names that popped up in my search was a reproductive endocrinologist who specializes in vaginitis. WTF is vaginitis? I googled.
She’s an expert in itchy vaginas.