Friday was the day T was going in for his SA. He had the lab slip and left work early to get to the lab before they closed. He arrived at the lab at 3pm. He signed in and waited for them to call him back. They didn't call him back until 3:40 at which time they told him they don't actually do collections at their facility and they would give him a cup to take home. He needed to take his sample downtown sometime between 9am and 1pm on Saturday morning. (Good thing he didn't have to work this weekend.)He said the lady behind the counter must have been at least 8 months pregnant and handed him a post-vasectomy cup instead of a fertility testing cup. She took it back and couldn't find the regular cup so gave him one used for drug testing. She also gave him a sheet of instructions...all in Spanish. He had to wait again while she hunted down the instructions in English. So, while I had spent all week promising much lovin' on Friday night after his test, we again went to bed with no nookie. T was furious that we weren't given all this information when we were given the original lab slip.
Saturday morning we woke bright and early. I called the lab downtown to find out exactly where T needed to go since time would be an issue and neither of us had been to the lab next to the hospital before. It is a good thing I called. The woman who answered the phone said she was the only one on duty at her particular lab location and wouldn't be able to process the sample in time. She said to take it to the Clinical Pathology department in the hospital itself. She gave me instructions on how to find it which I wrote down on the instruction sheet so T could take it with him. I took the cup to T so that he could warm it up to body temperature while I took the dog out, fed her and started his car to warm it up. I had been enlisted to "help" with the "collection" of the "sample". I watched the clock carefully so that we could document the exact time the sample was collected. (8:59am for those who are wondering.) I held the cup under my arm while T got dressed and got ready to head downtown. He said they should make the cups bigger since he had a hard time aiming, then again he said he expected the sample to be a bit more voluminous too. We were standing in the kitchen, me with the cup under my arm while I filled out the paperwork and he asked if I wanted to go with him. I looked at the clock, knowing I had a massage appointment in less than an hour, I wasn't "dressed", and hadn't showered but realizing he was asking for moral support so I agreed to go. I threw my shoes on and we left. The cup was still under my arm and I wasn't wearing a bra or underwear.
We walked in and through the lobby as instructed then started the search for Clinical Pathology. T assured me he never would have found it without me. I guess I can see that since I was used to the hospital from my monthly ultrasounds and he has only been there once. We stood at the desk for a while when a lab tech wandered by and asked if we had been helped. She looked at the paperwork, realized why we were there and told the woman sitting in the chair that she would have to wait while she processed ours first. (T said later that the woman in the chair was not on the list of people he intended to fuck that day but low and behold, he had done it anyway. Sorry Ma'am! I hope you would understand if you actually knew what was going on.)
The hospital has his swimmers. We will wait to hear the results.
Why couldn't we just be normal? He saw me taking my Metformin at dinner Saturday night and said "Sorry you have to take pills" and I said "Sorry you had to come in a cup". I think we are both just sorry we are not normal.