The Area of Sanctuary (Part 4)

Posted by J - azoowho@gmail.com |

Although we were both a little shaken by the initial report of no swimmers in "the pool", we comforted ourselves with myriad hypotheses explaining away the "certain mistake" and what "must have happened" to the sample. I scheduled a followup visit with a local Urologist as recommended by L's Gyn. Fortunately, he was able to see me fairly quickly and in a matter of a few weeks I was off to get naked and have my "paraphenalia" intimately inspected by another man for the first time in my adult life. I was a little on the anxious side but also eager for answers. The doctor did not see anything that caused him concern physically but did want me to go for a follow up Semen Analysis, and this time, to mitigate any possibility that there were problems with collection or transit, he wanted me to produce the sample in the office. He also wanted me to wait six weeks before scheduling the appointment... these were six very long weeks.

Fast forward to March, we are now five months or so into this process and I am on my way to do something in an office building that would certainly land me behind bars under any other circumstance. I was met in the lobby by a very nice nurse who asked me to follow her, " to a nice quiet area". I did my best to hide the fact that I was a completely nervous, embarrassed mess but I think the JuJuBee sized Hives decorating every square inch of my flop sweat drenched face may have given me away. Ok, maybe it was not quite that bad, but I was definately a wreck. As we traversed a serpentine-like labyrinth of hallways and doors we passed through a corridor labled "Area of Sanctuary" (I kid you not) and into the room where I was to do what had to be done. "The room is all yours, take all the time you need, when you are done place the container in this paper bag and bring it up front", she said as she locked the industrial weight door behind her. While I applaud their effort to provide a quiet, secure, comfortable area, I'm not sure that the vision was necessarily fully realized. Imagine the living room set from a bad bachelor pad, complete with faux leather couch, particle board varnished end table, big red "touch lamp" and a plastic rubber tree plopped down in the middle of the Nurses office from your Grammar School and you will start to get the visual. Sterile white floors and walls, harsh flourescent lighting, the standard white "doctor's office" cabinets and shelves and that awful, torturous, mind numbing ticky tocky, steel and glass wall clock whose metronomic thuds served as a constant cruel reminder of every passing second.

I spent a few fleeting seconds laughing/crying about where life had taken us (I don't think Dr. Seuss had this in mind when he wrote "Oh, The Places You'll Go") and pondered whether my shoe laces were strong enough to fashion a noose (damn physics, kidding...) and then began "exploring" the room in an attempt to mellow out a little. I am not a germaphobe by any stretch of the imagination but the thought of all the "whos" and "whats" that had taken place in that room made me really not want to touch anything. Behind the small television set on the counter I discovered a small pile of "inspirational materials" that, again, I was just too horrified to actually peruse :).

Enough time had passed and I decided it was now or never. I decided to extinguish the blinding flourescent lights and give things a go. I tried, and tried, and tried but then I'd think, "oh no, did she lock the door"? Then I'd try and try and try and think about elementary school lice inspections with Nurse Martin, this room even SMELLED the same. One more time I said, and... "arrgh, that friggin clock!!", "ok I can do this" and then, "ding ding ding" text message from my wife, "I love you baby, I'm with you". Such a beautiful, sweet, poorly timed sentiment. Phone turned off, iPod earbuds in place, visual images of Grammar school public health screenings gone...45 minutes later... off for the walk of shame part two, paper bag in hand.


Dramalish said...

Directed here from Lost and Found... It's nice to see a male perspective on IF.
My husband was DX with non-ob. azoo about 5 years ago. It sucks, no question.
Our path to parenthood included donor sperm, and we now have a beautiful 3 year old daughter who rules our universe.
Best of luck to you... I'll be reading. :)

I blog at "So Blessed I Could I Scream" http://babyquestblog.blogspot.com

noswimmers said...

I just came across your blog via Stirrup Queens, and I have to say that you and my hubby could quite possibly be azoo soulmates! LOVE the "poorly timed sentiments" from your wife. I've probably done the same to my poor hubby. Then again I've also been his porn mule. Ahh, lovely male factor infertility.

I look forward to reading your story!

Shelby said...

Here from Lost and Found. So far, loving your blog! Your initial descriptions brings me back several years ago when my husband and I were first diagnosed. It was such a scary, confusing time and like you, we had no idea what all the acronyms meant and are now far too well versed. Your post about leaving a sample also reminded me of my hubby's post:


Looking forward to reading more!

'Murgdan' said...

Oh the places you'll go is right...who would have ever imagined. Here from LFCA...welcome to the blogosphere!