(Boys, avert your eyes.)

I love going to the girl doctor. Love it. I especially love the speculum. I swear to Christmas, no matter how many times I do it, no matter how deeply I breathe or loudly I hum or how much they "warm" it up for me, having a duck-billed metal contraption stuck inside your twat (then OPENED! OPENED!) always feels vaguely prison camp.

But tomorrow. tomorrow's gonna suck. Tomorrow I get to go have a sonogram. And not just one - two! One done from the outside and one done ... somewhere more invasive, if you catch my drift. Still, sticking a electrode up my lady parts, while not my definition of a good time, doesn't faze me nearly as what I have to do beforehand.

I have to consume five glasses of water.

And hold it.

This, my friends, is a trick akin to Houdini and the chains. To David Blaine and that ridiculous box over London. To Copperfield landing Claudia Schiffer. Because as we all know, I can't not pee. It's a physical impossibility. I pee like people breathe. To steal a quote, "The only time I don't have to pee is when I'm peeing". Seriously, I should get T-shirts printed. They know not what they ask when they ask me to consume that much liquid. My husband and I almost came to blows when he banned coffee from our honeymoon. (Apparently I was impeding our progress across Ireland. Whatevs.)

I have a feeling this is going to get really ugly, really fast.

Alls I have to say is, I hope I don't elecrocute myself during the process.