The Day My Vagina Falls Out

It's been too long since my last therapy session with The Rug Doctor.  Work and life stuff just got in the way, so it's been a month, I think, since I've had an appointment.  Based on the title of this blog, I think we all know I waited too long to see her.

Today I was feeling all sorts of anxiety, angst and sadness.  One of the things that has me a little anxious is my upcoming hysterectomy at the end of June.  I received a call from the doctor today advising me that my fibroid has not reduced in size at all and is clearly not responding to the Lupron shots I've been getting for months now.  So, we are moving forward with the procedure.  I've talked to many of my gal-pals and I have gotten pretty positive reviews.  Everyone agrees that I won't regret having the baby shack taken out.  Well, no shit.  No more periods, duh.  Who's gonna miss that?  I'm sure no one ever said, "Oh no, I don't need to buy feminine products or worry about leaving a blood kiss on the chair or in my favorite rainbow underpants."  Seriously.  With that said, removing the angry uterus does bring up some feelings.

I told the Rug Doctor about my ultrasound appointment the other day when I could hear the woman in the next room being told she was 13 weeks along.  I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't get a little teary-eyed.  That woman got to hear the allegedly exciting news about the baby growing inside her and here I am putting a definite end to any sort of chance that I would ever carry a child.  I mean, we pretty much took care of that when I took Shark Bait in to get fixed, but still, this is very final.  There is a part of me that is sad about never having had a child of my own.  I feel like I have mourned that over the last eight years or so, but part of being a woman is that junk inside that gives you the ability to spawn offspring.  Will I feel any less of a woman when it's over? I honestly don't know.

We also talked about the procedure itself.  I've done some Googling, I've asked some people and I am preparing questions for the pre-op appointment with the Gyno Doc, but I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit nervous.  I do know we are leaving my ovaries intact, but I think everything else is coming out.  Like my cervix.  I think it's coming out, but I'm not sure.  And if I do take it out, I hear you gotta be super careful, because if you don't heal right, I hear your vagina can prolapse and fall out!!!  What the fuck?  I have all sorts of  questions about this possibility!

• Once everything is out, is my whole vaginal area like a dark tunnel?  A black hole?  Like, an empty parking garage?  
• Is it like standing on the top of the Swiss Alps yelling, "helloooooo..." as it echos back?
• When I pee, is it just going to be like a fire hose on full blast with nothing to slow the flow?
• If it is a windy day, will my lower lady lips make a flapping sound in the wind if I wear a dress?
• Will my ovaries just fall out like marbles on the floor and I'm running around chasing them like that guy in Return to Neverland finding his marbles?  I mean, I know I won't get to fly, but still...
• Will my vagina just fall out one day?  Like, "splatt!" right onto the ground.  I pick it up, dust it off and put it back in?  Put it in my pocket?  
• Will I need a vagina fanny pack that I attach in the front of me and it just rides around in there in case I need it?
• Will my vagina truly become nature's purse and I can carry stuff around in there?
• What about sex, will I just hand it to Shark Bait and say, "let me know when I'm getting close."
• Will I need to wear shorts like guys do at the gym to keep their balls harnessed?
• If I sit down on a bench that is wet with paint, but I didn't know it was wet, so I sat down, will I leave a normal butt print in the wet paint, or will it be a butt print with a little extra splotch in the front for my girl stuff that just hangs loose?
• Will I be able to lay in a hammock without my vagina falling through the mesh netting and trapping me there?  
• Will it fall in the toilet when I pee? 
• Will I be able to slide into a booth at a restaurant?

And those are just some of the vagina questions! What about my hormones?  Will I get facial hair?  Like, big, thick black hairs radiating from my chin?  Will my voice lower?  What about that empty space down there internally?  What goes in there?  Fluid? Cellulite just moves in?  What happens to the ovaries?  They are just hanging out like a couple of bats?

So many questions.  I mean, I know for most people it is a great life change and they are so happy they did it.  But what if I am part of the small percentage of people that has post partum uterus detachment syndrome?  I don't know if it is a thing, but it sounds legit.  Like, one day, I'm like, "Back when I had my uterus, this wouldn't have happened..."  I can't think what that event would be, actually, but it could be a thing.  Maybe I'll think, "I can't blame my bitchiness on shark week now."  Now I will need to like, take accountability for my actions or have a legit reason.  This is bullshit.  I've partnered with this uterus all these years to scare the shit out of people every 28 days and now, I just have to be randomly scary to keep them on their toes.  I mean, I actually think I may already do that, but this sounds like extra effort that my hormones provided naturally.

For the record, The Rug Doctor doesn't think I have anything to worry about, but she does want me to talk to the Gyno Doc to feel better about my choices.  She strongly recommended against utilizing my Google MD research techniques and just relaxing until I have more information from the doctor.  She also said it is normal that I would be feeling sad about losing this very important part of my anatomy.  Even if I made the choice to not have children, it is still a big deal and my feelings are valid.

I'm sorry if this was a little over the top, but vagina placement is a big deal.  I'll keep you updated if it does fall out after surgery, because I am going to make a ton of money on my vagina fanny pack invention.

This is what it will look like as my vagina sucks me in.

How Hard Does Sprint Wireless Suck?

The question begs to be asked, "How hard does Sprint Wireless suck?"  The answer to that question is that modern technology has yet to develop testing equipment with a capacity to measure this. I do believe, however, that a good comparison might be that Sprint sucks harder than a hooker trying to make rent to her pimp before getting beat up.  I don't have any first hand experience with that scenario, but I would assume the suction would be intense.

I should start by saying that the only reason I have Sprint is because Shark Bait had it when I met him and it was cheaper than what I was paying, so I switched over.  It's been an underwhelming user experience ever since.  I mean, who even came up with the name, Sprint? The service isn't fast or reliable.  It's like the Special Olympics of cellular service.  But, alas it seems like whenever we are in the mood to change, we are in the middle of a contract.  Basically, we are dumb-asses.

So, what brings on today's rage?  SO GLAD YOU ASKED!

Yesterday (Sunday), Shark Bait and I were heading on a road trip for the day.  I got in the truck and was settling in as the trusty passenger and pulled my phone out.  Half of the screen was black.

Notice how half of the screen is black? Yeah, so did I.  So, Shark Bait and I traveled over to Eastern Washington and when we got there, we located a Sprint store.  The dude in the store is quick to inform me that he cannot help me because he is not a corporate store, nor does he have technical help in his store. He then suggested that I had caused damage to the phone, even though, not a mark on it. After not really believing me, he said my options were to pay off what was owing on the phone (allegedly $200) and get a new phone, or I could call the insurance company and see what they would charge for a deductible to replace it.  I said, "Well, that's bullshit.  The phone is worthless, why would I pay $200?  And, if I pay insurance on it every month, what the fuck good does that do me if I just have a huge deductible over something I have no control over.  I didn't do this to the phone!?"  Pablo basically was ZERO help.  He says, "$200 isn't that much, I'd just pay it off and get a new one."  Oh yeah, chump change.  No big deal. Clearly, Sprint over pays him.

But wait, Pablo wasn't done. He continued on with more great news.  He said, "Yeah, these HTC Bolt phones are bad news.  I don't know why anyone would buy one.  I never let a customer leave the store with one of these.  I've seen a lot of problems with them."  I looked at him, clearly pissed, "Well, that's fantastic, because the girl that sold it to me assured me it was the next best thing and would be faster, have more range and not drop calls, and now you tell me it's shit?  That's awesome that you sell it, then."

He suggested we visit the Marysville store which was a corporate store. With that, we left Pablo to think of more ways to scam customers.

Upon returning to the west side of the mountains that evening, we stopped in at the Marysville store.  Right off the bat, we are told they are not a corporate store.  Said they haven't been one for over a year and a half now.  Huh.  They said I should take the phone to the corporate store in Everett or in Lynnwood. That sure sounds super convenient, I'll just take a day off work and run around the county trying to get my phone fixed on Monday!!!  They hypothesized some possible issues the phone could be experiencing and then we just cut our losses and left.

Fast forward to today.  It's a Monday, so it's already a challenge.  I decide to go on my lunch hour up to the CORPORATE Sprint store in Everett.  I know where it is. It's in the Trader Joe's Parking lot.  The boufante-haired and under-showered guy at Sprint told me so.  I walk in to the store and no one is there except two guys, one at each counter.  They looked like contestants on Jeopardy.  I gravitate over to the orange-haired lad with gauges in his ears.  I explain the problem and tell him I need it fixed.  He informs me what he thinks is wrong with the phone and then tells me that he can't help because he's not a corporate store.  I said, "are you kidding me? The dude at Marysville said that you were? They used to be one, so I went there thinking they still were."  Orange hair dude says, "No, they've never been a corporate store."  I can't do this, I can't argue about that.  So, now I'm pissed. I said, "So, you are the THIRD store I have been to.  Each of you tells me something different. I don't have $200 to pay off this phone and get a new one, nor should I have to!"  He says, "Well, it's actually $375 to pay it off, but it might be worth it to cut your losses."  I looked at him incredulously and said, "Seriously?  Why in the hell would I give you $375 for a piece of crap phone that doesn't work?  Why in the hell would I do that?  And then you're going to charge me for a new one and to upgrade, etc.  I have insurance, what the fuck good is it if none of this is covered?"  He's like, calm as a cucumber, nothing was going to rattle him.  He was probably smoking weed before I got there. He then hands me a piece of paper telling me that the corporate office is in Lynnwood and I need to go there.  I was so beyond pissed.  I said, "Where the hell is that store??? What is it by?"  He says, "Well the address is on that sheet of paper."  I looked at him with sheer rage in my face, grabbed my phone, shoved it in his face and said, "WELL, I'D PUT THE ADDRESS IN MY PHONE TO GUIDE ME, BUT I CAN'T!!!!!!!!!!"  With that, I thanked him for abso-fucking-lutely nothing, and left.

When I was safely in my truck, I considered my options.  I wanted this dealt with TODAY.  I needed this rage to help me through this.  I was going to that fucking Lynnwood store.  Vengeance would be mine.  Justice would be served.

I arrive at the Lynnwood store.

I walk in and I see a crowd of 20-something boys in the back, all of them seemingly work there. They could all see that I was a crazed fat girl with an axe to grind.  They sent a tribute.  A little guy, his name was Hugo.  He asked how I was.  I said, "I'm very cranky and I need help, but first, are you or are you not a corporate store?" He confirmed that yes, I had located the mother-ship.  The other guys in the back, settled in to watch the show.  I told Hugo of my travels and that he would be the fourth store and that I would not be told one more time that I needed to pay $375 for a piece of shit phone.  He looked at it and said he could have his repair guy look at it, but his repair guy was really busy, so it might be a while.  Strike one, Hugo.  I elevated my voice a bit and said, "Look, I have been told three different stories by three stores, I'm trying to get my phone fixed on my lunch hour.  I live in Stanwood and work in Everett, I don't have time to travel all over God's creation just to be told I need to come back.  I want this resolved...and not by getting a new phone after I pay a bunch of money.  Do I look like a baller to you?  Is $375 chump change to you?  You Sprint people get paid so much you just make it rain?"


Hugo returned to the back room and had the tech take a peek at the phone.  Hugo informed me the tech had seen another phone already today with this same issue and someone else had called and was bringing one in, also with the same issue.  They said because I had the insurance and because it seemed to be more of a warranty issue and not customer created, there would be no charge and they would fix it.  It would only take 7-10 days.  I may have lost it again just as one of the girls that worked there was arriving for her shift and walked up to the counter.  When she heard me start to talk, her eyes got big and she scampered away quickly.  I said, "That's awesome you're going to fix it, but are you shitting me?  I won't have a phone for 7-10 days? Seriously?  This is ridiculous!"  He said, "oh no, we would give you a loaner phone."  A loaner phone?  Apparently, they give me some random piece of shit phone while they are fixing my phone.  They just transfer my phone number over and bam, loaner phone. (Sad thing is, the loaner phone might be lame but it's still probably a better phone than mine.)  So then, Hugo says, "So, the technician is super busy working on someone else's phone, so it will take him about 30 minutes to get to your phone so he can transfer your stuff over to this loaner phone."  I looked at him like I was going to pick his body up and stuff it into a phone case.  He then said nervously, "or we can just get your number moved over and you out the door in about 5 minutes, but you won't have any of your info from your phone."  I said, "Let's do that, shall we?"

So, I'm a little calmer now, as Hugo works away and getting my number to work on this loaner phone. We are making idle chit-chat and I say, "One of your people told me that this is the worst phone and he never lets anyone out of the store with one, but the gal that sold it to me told me how much better it would be, blah, blah, blah...."  Hugo says, "uh, yeah, I don't sell it either.  It doesn't get great reviews.  I think they thought it was going to be great, but it wasn't."  I said, "That's fantastic that your sales people push shit phones on people and then try and screw them over when something goes wrong.  I feel great about doing business with Sprint."  He looked a bit nervous and said, "Well, a lot of times the manufacturers of these phones have sales incentives to sell specific phones, so the sales people push them."  I just looked at him and slow-blinked, unimpressed with his reasoning.

We then discussed in great length about the difference between corporate stores and all those Sprint re-seller stores and how confusing it is for the customer.  I told him the guy in the Everett store almost got killed.  Hugo then says to me, "I just don't understand why you didn't go to the corporate store in Everett?  Why would he tell you to come here?"  I stood there stunned.  I said, "I did, the one in the Trader Joe's parking lot." Hugo says, "The Everett corporate store in Everett is right across the street from Applebees, you could have gone to that one."  I stood there, livid.  "Why didn't the dumb ass at the Trader Joe's store tell me there was a corporate store literally a couple blocks away from where I was?  And why would Sprint do that to their customers?  WHY?"  Hugo had no answers, but he did ask me to give him a 10 on the survey that would be sent to me.  I'm not going to lie, more slow-blinking.

Hugo then asked me where I worked.  I told him.  He then proceeded to complain about how slow my company's internet was.  He has NINE people in his house that game, stream movies, and use it full-time online.  Oh, I'm sorry our internet is not fast enough.  I think he could tell I was not interested in talking about anyone's short-comings other than Sprint's.

The bonus of waiting for Hugo to work on my phone was that I was lucky enough to enjoy the musical stylings of Michael Bolton over the sound system and then the boys in the back of the store blaring some gang-banger hip hop.  I said to Hugo, "I'm loving what you guys are doing with the music in here, it's like it calms you down while you get pissed off." He said, "yeah, sometimes the guys do that, I don't understand it."  Well, finally we can agree on something.

Finally a few minutes later, I left there with my very used loaner phone.  Better than nothing, I guess.  I felt a sigh of relief that Shark Bait and I do not take nakie pics on our phones because I wasn't able to back anything up or take anything off of the phone before handing it over.  I hope the tech guy doesn't spend too much time reading the Boot Bitch Gang group chat or my text messages.  I hope he likes weiner dogs, selfies and ponies...and bunnies.

All in all, I made pretty good time running around the county and got back to work a bit beyond my lunch break, but not horribly so.  I made a quick stop at McDonalds across the street from my work to pick up a chicken sammy and the gal that took my payment says, "Oh, I love your outfit today! It looks really good on you.  I could never pull it off because I have three kids, but that white looks good on you (it was actually a yellowish-white)."  I said, "Thank you, I have a hard enough time pulling it off with no kids."  She says, "Well, if you had long hair, that might be too much, but because you keep it short and it's a cute style, you can pull it off...but yeah, long hair would just be too much."

I'm just going to put this out there.  I got better customer service and fashion advice in two minutes at McDonalds than I did at four different Sprint stores.

Sprint, you suck harder than a Black Hole.  Harder than a hooker in a Black Hole.