More Trouble than they are worth

My goddamn ovaries hate me. Seriously, I think these two little olive shaped vessels of life bearing fruit seem to be plotting against my very being from within my abdomen. I don't know what I did to them to make them so desireous of this coupe de gras. Was it because I oppressed them with my birth control? I wasn't sexually active enough to make them feel validated?
*sigh*
So, we all recall that little BOOM that happened most recently. Yea, the good ol "Hey, let's take an ambulance and freak out the neighbors!" day. My doc had put me on a hormone controlling birth control pill in hopes that it would stop my ovulation cycle. I mean, that is what BC is supposed to do. It took seemingly forever for the remaining cyst to finally let go of it's tenuous deathgrip on my side (in reality, two more weeks of discomfort, but it's my blog, so I can embellish all I want). When my new and improved cycle was to begin, needless to say, I was on pins and needles. I got through one pack ok, and started to feel a false sense of relief. Baha. Life just DOESN'T work that way.
Into the third week, where I would normally be going through an ovulation cycle, I started feeling the pains of impending doom. Luckily, I had a few days off, and immediately rang the good doctor up. He scheduled an ultrasound for the next day, and I waited semi-patiently to see what my fate would hold. My darling Shea and her hubby headed up to watch the wee one while I got the joyous experience of getting an ultrasound. Haven't had one? Oh, let me give you an idea...
Laying on a cold table with your pants pulled down to underneith your special bits, a nurse with very cold hands squeezes an unneccessarily large amount of a clear goo onto your belly. She then proceeds to rub a giant nozzle that looks like a vaccum attachment over your belly and hrm and haw. This process is uncomfortable, especially because you have to go in with a full bladder, which she is currently grinding said wand of awkwardness into.
Then comes the fun part..."Go drain your bladder so we can do the internal one now". Yes, this is as bad as it sounds. This second half of torture involves no bottom clothing, more goop, and a new magic wand which would make John Holmes start having feelings of inadequacy. Thankfully enough, it comes with a condom! *shudder*
So, she finds a 'mass' and I proceed to try NOT hyperventalating over the C word. Shea tried to keep me preoccupied the rest of the day. Finally I get the call that said 'mass' was yet another cyst, one that had recently ruptured, presumably when I started feeling the initial pains. The only thing we can do is immediately change the hormone dosage I am on and cross our fingers. As shitty as this news is, at least it's not what it could've been. My last biopsy in that general area was dreadful, I was not looking forward to a round two.
Guh. For every guy who complains about being male because he has to try and deal with the feminine persuasion, please know that THIS shit is what we deal with by being the womb-bearing ones. Blergh.