Scuse me while I kill this guy

Can you believe that this post is NOT about John Dear? No, instead it is about the stunningly insensitive urologist with whom we just had our consult. From now on, his name is Dr. Az-hat.

What it all boils down to is this. Dr. Az-hat is a surgeon. JD doesn't require surgery (in every one's estimation, it's not like Dr. Az-hat would give JD a physical or anything). Because Dr. Az-hat believes there's no money in our pain for him, he's getting rid of us. So, instead of doing an SA with Dr. Az-hat, he told us to just go back to Giant Fertility Center (GFC) and have an SA done there. Um, forgetting anything, Dr. Az-hat? How can we do an SA without any S?* As my brother said in preschool, "Gas hole."

Dr. Az-hat just said that we should try to do an SA with GFC, even though it might take 10 years and horrible chafing. His tip was that we should see if we can bring in the donation from home. Gee! Thanks, Dr. Az-hat!

After much questioning, Dr. Az-hat did admit that there were alternative methods, but that these would only be available in an academic setting, so JD should just give up the goods here. Then he goes on to say, once JD can do that, I don't see any problems with you getting pregnant! Um, yeah, we know that. That's the friggin' problem!!!

Thank goodness JD has the day off from work today. If he had to take time off because of this waste of space, I think he would have bolted over the desk and choked the guy. Course, he would have had to get in line to do that.

*When raging about this whole situation with BFF, she thought it was odd that you had to do some sort of inventory of sailors in the Navy to get pregnant.