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The original was posted on /r/twoxchromosomes by /u/GreenSchwartz on 2023-09-08 19:10:45.

Had a terrible experience getting an ultrasound and need to rant. I will be calling to complain today because What in the Actual Fuck.

I identify as nonbinary but happen to be assigned female at birth, so of course when I have consistent abdominal pain for years I have to consider that my reproductive organs may be the source of that pain. I spoke with my obgyn at our last appointment and let her know that endometriosis runs on the maternal side of my family, and wanted to figure out if that was the possible source. She set me up to have a pelvic ultrasound. All as expected and I was scheduled to have the ultrasound done yesterday.

On my way to a separate doctor appointment yesterday morning, I get a call from the imaging center asking if I could come in “right now.” I told them I could not, as I was on my way to a different appointment. The person on the phone asked how long it was for and said I should come in right after that, as “there isn’t a woman available for your afternoon appointment time so it would be done by a man unless you can come in sooner.” Not sure why it matters who does it, so long as they’re qualified, but sure.

I arrive at about 11:15 in the morning and check in. The receptionist pulls my file and notes that my appointment is in the afternoon, and I explain the phone call. She quickly accepts my answer and gives me a sheet to sign, which in hindsight I should have taken the time to really look at. Shortly after sitting down, I am called back and escorted to the ultrasound room by who I assumed was the technician. She starts with an external ultrasound which I had not expected. She spent about a half hour on imaging externally and my abdomen was very sore from all the pushing but I’m hoping that’s relatively normal. She then lets me know I can prepare for the pelvic ultrasound and leaves the room.

Sometime after laying back down on the examination bed, she pops open the door to let me know she’s waiting for a colleague to arrive to assist. “No problem, perhaps the person we’re waiting for is training. Is that what I signed?” I think to myself. 20 minutes later the colleague arrives and we can get started. It quickly became apparent that the colleague who had just arrived was not the trainee, but the person with experience on how to conduct a pelvic ultrasound. She hands the wand to who I’ve just learned is the trainee and turns her attention to the screen. The trainee, without looking to see what she is doing, lets me know she’s going to insert the wand and I immediately notice she has it much lower than it should be.

At this point, I’m frozen in shock. I think maybe I’m the confused one but am able to rationalize and realize no, this is definitely wrong. This medical professional, who happens to also be a woman, has shoved the wand up my asshole. Now, quick note that this part of my body is quite the trigger thanks to some past traumas, so I am frozen and tensed and in shock. The trainee, not realizing her mistake, just keeps shoving and looking for organs not attached to where she’s looking, and after what feels like forever the actual technician takes the wand. But neither have bothered to lift the blanket and actually look at what they’re doing, so she too does more prodding before realizing the fuck up. She pulls the wand without warning and I hear the two talking quietly amongst each other but don’t catch what they’re saying. All I see is the trainee prepare to stick this thing right back in me before the technician stops her and has her change the wrap on it and re-lubricate it. The technician instead inserts the wand, actually getting my vagina this time, and begins explaining ing how to find everything to the trainee.

There is zero acknowledgment from either of what just happened, just a comforting hand on my knee from the technician as she does her job. The trainee of course is incredibly awkward after it’s all said and done and hands me a towel telling me I can use that to clean up and pulls some paper towels and goes “or these.” I clean myself and dress as fast as I can and am quickly escorted to the waiting room. I peace out without talking to the receptionist and head straight back to work, trying to compartmentalize so I can reflect after work.

It’s not until my best friend eventually asks if I am doing okay that I finally begin to consider what the fuck happened. Anyways, calling to put in a complaint today and riding the waves of disassociation and feeling violated.