Monday, January 25, 2010

Tender tissues and sharp instruments

I lie on my back, thighs parted, knees bent, legs raised. The position forces me back onto the cane-tenderized area of my upper butt, the bruising bearing witness to recent abuse. I embrace the pain. That pain.

But not this new assault. Cervix pinched open, instruments inserted, the first passes only mildly agitating, small voiceless complaints sneaking through my compressed vocal cords. Then the real nastiness begins, executed by an implement I'd rather not see.

My sounds change, first to those little wordless emissions he knows so well, then changing to gasps and moans and whimpers. I try to hold still, but can't help writhing, undulating, the waves of my body echoing the waves of pain as cramping attacks this womb he owns.

The doctor apologizes.

"I don't like to torture people," she says.

I smile grimly to myself, and do not share my thoughts.

6 comments:

nancy said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
nancy said...

OH OUCH OUCH~
I can never find this kind of pain the least erotic..never!

oatmeal girl said...

No. It was not erotic at all. I tried to convert it as I lay there afterwards, waiting for the cramping to subside. But it just wasn't possible. Still, I was aware of a certain amount of irony.

The cramping and bleeding have stopped now and the fact that it was so hard for her to get sufficient tissue for a biopsy bodes well for the outcome. We hope... But attacks on my body exhaust me, especially with no endorphins to counter the effects of the pain. I didn't go to work; just came home and slept on the couch with the cats. At least they were happy.

This was not my first endometrial biopsy. But they've never been this bad. Perhaps it was some sort of cosmic punishment for my perversion...

worm said...

Dear OG
These types of invasions are never welcomed. I offer you the proverbial *soft smile* and *hugs.*
When I last went to the Dr's office for this type of thing, I hoped the hunky intern would not be present. He was. We were all at our stations and my doctor entered to assist. He offered said hunk his gloves; "size 10?" I gasped and then began to giggle. The hunk blushed. I work in an operating room. Surgeons with really big hands wear size 8.5. The hunk said that size 8 would do, even a 7.5. I relaxed my core, returned to the clouds outside and thought of my Master.

Paul said...

OG, I guessed you were having some sort of cervical examination, not nice.
I have a troublesome prostate which needs to be checked yearly, not nice.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.

mamacrow said...

((((HUGS)))) and everything crossed xxx