The weekend was busy with candy-making and cookie-making and hiring my stepsister-in-law to clean the house. (She's 11. She worked about three hours, including helping us with wrapping 220 caramels, and hung around for a few more helping with putting up decorations. I asked what she was going to charge and she hemmed and hawed and settled on $2 an hour. I gave her a twenty and, possibly, apoplexy.) We finally got our tree decorated last night. Next year I will begin the tree-buying process on December 3 or so, so that we can actually get it up by the time I want it (around December 15, which is when we actually bought our tree, but then it didn't go up for almost a week and then Eric was too tired to want to decorate and so on).
We got some good news in the mail: Anthem has overturned the denial of coverage on my HSG, so we won't be losing that $3600 after all. It will take a while for them to process the claims, of course, but then we'll get our money back from the hospital and doctor's office, or maybe apply it toward future service. I'm pleased. I wasn't looking forward to continuing that fight. (I wonder if this is why our insurance is going up next year. In fact I'm losing my very nice 100% coverage plan because my employer decided it was just too expensive to continue. I won't tell them it might be my fault.)
In other good news, the mouse is gone. It was getting bolder: not only taking the peanut butter from the traps without springing the traps, but darting from the pantry to the back entry (where the garbage can and recycling bins are) to under the stove while we were in the kitchen banging things around. Yesterday morning I was in the kitchen and noticed it run from the stove to the entry. Then I saw it creep into my garden tote. So I very slowly opened the back door, picked up the tote, and put it outside. I'd better check it before the weather gets warmer, since a frozen mouse body in my bag is bad enough but a thawed, decomposing one would be much worse and I like that bag.
Today, I'm finishing two socks (one for Mom, one for Dad) and a batch of cookies, and putting some last things away before my parents get here tomorrow. And then I'm on Christmas break. I've been so envious of Eric and his two-week break; it was so hard getting up quietly to go to work today. I only have to do it again tomorrow and then I won't for nearly a week.
Showing posts with label adventures in infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventures in infertility. Show all posts
Monday, December 22, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Don't want no hard cash
I'm liking that hospital more and more. "Do you want me to send you a financial assistance form?" the woman who answered said when I told her I'd received my past-due bill and wanted to set up payment installments. I was dubious, since we make a decent amount of money and I doubt we'd qualify, but she insisted that it wouldn't hurt, so I agreed. "How much do you think you can pay a month?" she said.
"Seven hundred?" I said, since I calculated we could spare that much and I hate debt.
"Are you sure? I don't want to stretch you too tight. They're willing to work with you, that's the great thing. And with the holidays coming up, I don't want to strap you. What about, say, three hundred? And if you have the seven hundred you can send it, but this way you're not tight on cash through the holidays." I agreed, mostly because she was being so kind. They charge no interest, so I’m feeling about as good about paying this charge I shouldn't have to pay as I can be.
Incidentally, Eric's student loans have now come due, but the minimum payment is something ludicrously small--$145 or something--so that's not a big deal, either. Our current plan is to pay the minimum on the student loans until we've saved up $6000 in emergency money--we're at $2000 now and our end-of-the-month sweep into savings should be around $1000--and then start paying extra to get rid of that debt as soon as we might without wrecking our other plans. Luckily we're not as concerned about investing in stocks or 401ks because that money will only disappear anyway.
Actually one of my coworkers is buying up extra stocks and contributing more to his 401k because he figures lots of shares while they're cheap is a good idea, and intellectually I agree this is sound; but I don't think I'm really doing it. In seventh grade Humanities we were told to take X amount of imaginary money, pretend we had bought stocks with it, and track the stocks over the weeks to see what we had earned or lost. I kept some of my money instead of buying stocks with all of it. Imaginary funds, and going against the actual assignment, and I didn't use all the money because I thought it was too risky. (I did end up losing money. But I didn't get my grade docked, though the teacher looked at me funny.)
"Seven hundred?" I said, since I calculated we could spare that much and I hate debt.
"Are you sure? I don't want to stretch you too tight. They're willing to work with you, that's the great thing. And with the holidays coming up, I don't want to strap you. What about, say, three hundred? And if you have the seven hundred you can send it, but this way you're not tight on cash through the holidays." I agreed, mostly because she was being so kind. They charge no interest, so I’m feeling about as good about paying this charge I shouldn't have to pay as I can be.
Incidentally, Eric's student loans have now come due, but the minimum payment is something ludicrously small--$145 or something--so that's not a big deal, either. Our current plan is to pay the minimum on the student loans until we've saved up $6000 in emergency money--we're at $2000 now and our end-of-the-month sweep into savings should be around $1000--and then start paying extra to get rid of that debt as soon as we might without wrecking our other plans. Luckily we're not as concerned about investing in stocks or 401ks because that money will only disappear anyway.
Actually one of my coworkers is buying up extra stocks and contributing more to his 401k because he figures lots of shares while they're cheap is a good idea, and intellectually I agree this is sound; but I don't think I'm really doing it. In seventh grade Humanities we were told to take X amount of imaginary money, pretend we had bought stocks with it, and track the stocks over the weeks to see what we had earned or lost. I kept some of my money instead of buying stocks with all of it. Imaginary funds, and going against the actual assignment, and I didn't use all the money because I thought it was too risky. (I did end up losing money. But I didn't get my grade docked, though the teacher looked at me funny.)
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Adventures in infertility: IUIUIU
(TMI alert. Also, length alert. Sheesh.)
So the IUI was last Thursday. Actually it was last Friday. Let me explain...no, there is too much. Let me sum up. No, I'm lousy at summing up, let me explain:
I had my ultrasound/follicle study Wednesday. The technician said, "Whoa, you responded well to the Clomid. Almost too well," and said I had three ripe juicy follicles but all in the side with the blocked tube. She sent me off to the scheduler, who sent me off to the check-out, who said, "Was that all for today?" and I remembered I was supposed to get a Profasi shot as well. Since the office had totally forgotten about it, they had to send me out to the local pharmacy to get the Profasi itself. It's damned expensive stuff--the generic is $64, but the name-brand was all they had and it was $109. It contains two months' worth of medicine, but I'm not seeing that as much of a selling point.
Before I would surrender the Profasi I asked the shot-giver (that seemed to be her only function, at least that day) whether it actually made sense to go through with this, since my eggs would have nowhere to go, and she checked with a doctor who said that yes, it was worth a shot since eggs can migrate. I let her do the shot (it ached for days afterward) and looked it up later. The key is that the ovaries aren't actually connected to the fallopian tubes, just very close to them; the tubes have fimbriae that capture the eggs as they emerge and sweep them into the tube, but it's possible for the eggs to escape the nearest fimbriae. I don't know how often this happens--I only read about the migration bit on a couple of forums, secondhand from posters' doctors, and one said a 10% and the other a 70% chance. I also wonder how often an egg wanders off and is never recovered, and I can't imagine it being all that often.
Regardless, I got the shot and we scheduled the IUI for the next day, when Eric would go to the fertility clinic at the hospital during his planning period to, er, do his part, and I'd come by a few hours later to pick up, er, his part, and bring it to my gynecologist for the actual procedure. Wednesday night, he mentioned that he wasn't sure exactly where in the hospital the clinic was, but neither of us looked it up, me because I figured I'd do it at work before I left, he because (as it turned out) he thought I knew, though he didn't ask me for the directions then.
Thursday, I had a blood donation appointment with the bloodmobile at work for 10. At 11:30, Eric left school to find the clinic. He couldn't find it. He called me. I wasn't there because the bloodmobile people were, aside from being discourteous and not very gentle, running extremely late, and I didn't get out until 12. Eric shouted "Where have you been??" and then told me that the hospital had sent him to someplace that said he needed to go across the street, and the people across the street had told him he was in the wrong place, and now what? I got directions from the gynecologist and relayed them. "Then it's too late," he said, and yelled at me for not being around my phone at all times "when you knew I didn't know where I was going!" and for giving blood when I was supposed to be getting pregnant.
He went back to work. I called the clinic and the gynecologist and was told that we could reschedule for the next day. The scheduler, whom I've talked to a lot in the past couple of months, was upset that I asked if that would do any good. It turns out Profasi stays in the system for around 36-48 hours and the eggs don't die until it's gone. This was going to be a little over that time limit, so I was dubious, but we'd already spent most of the money we were going to spend this month and I scheduled it despite Eric saying he'd given up for the month. Later he called back, and we made up and he agreed to try again on Friday.
Friday, armed with the new improved directions, he had no problems at all (except in locating the porn, he said--it was discreetly tucked underneath a towel, and he didn't find it until afterward). I accordingly arrived a few hours later, tucked "the boys" into my bra, which gave me the giggles, was told by the technician "Good luck--I hope I never see you again!" and drove off.
At the gynecologist's, everything went fine except that my cervix is apparently severely tilted, so the gynecologist had to shove the catheter to get it in the correct place and I therefore bled quite a bit more than I'd been led to expect. Also, they should have warned me to bring a book or grab a magazine. Their ceiling was not interesting enough to entertain me for the requisite 20 minutes on my back.
And now, we wait. I am now doubly hoping that it worked, because I saw that ThinkGeek now carries solar system mobiles and how totally awesome would that be for a nursery?
So the IUI was last Thursday. Actually it was last Friday. Let me explain...no, there is too much. Let me sum up. No, I'm lousy at summing up, let me explain:
I had my ultrasound/follicle study Wednesday. The technician said, "Whoa, you responded well to the Clomid. Almost too well," and said I had three ripe juicy follicles but all in the side with the blocked tube. She sent me off to the scheduler, who sent me off to the check-out, who said, "Was that all for today?" and I remembered I was supposed to get a Profasi shot as well. Since the office had totally forgotten about it, they had to send me out to the local pharmacy to get the Profasi itself. It's damned expensive stuff--the generic is $64, but the name-brand was all they had and it was $109. It contains two months' worth of medicine, but I'm not seeing that as much of a selling point.
Before I would surrender the Profasi I asked the shot-giver (that seemed to be her only function, at least that day) whether it actually made sense to go through with this, since my eggs would have nowhere to go, and she checked with a doctor who said that yes, it was worth a shot since eggs can migrate. I let her do the shot (it ached for days afterward) and looked it up later. The key is that the ovaries aren't actually connected to the fallopian tubes, just very close to them; the tubes have fimbriae that capture the eggs as they emerge and sweep them into the tube, but it's possible for the eggs to escape the nearest fimbriae. I don't know how often this happens--I only read about the migration bit on a couple of forums, secondhand from posters' doctors, and one said a 10% and the other a 70% chance. I also wonder how often an egg wanders off and is never recovered, and I can't imagine it being all that often.
Regardless, I got the shot and we scheduled the IUI for the next day, when Eric would go to the fertility clinic at the hospital during his planning period to, er, do his part, and I'd come by a few hours later to pick up, er, his part, and bring it to my gynecologist for the actual procedure. Wednesday night, he mentioned that he wasn't sure exactly where in the hospital the clinic was, but neither of us looked it up, me because I figured I'd do it at work before I left, he because (as it turned out) he thought I knew, though he didn't ask me for the directions then.
Thursday, I had a blood donation appointment with the bloodmobile at work for 10. At 11:30, Eric left school to find the clinic. He couldn't find it. He called me. I wasn't there because the bloodmobile people were, aside from being discourteous and not very gentle, running extremely late, and I didn't get out until 12. Eric shouted "Where have you been??" and then told me that the hospital had sent him to someplace that said he needed to go across the street, and the people across the street had told him he was in the wrong place, and now what? I got directions from the gynecologist and relayed them. "Then it's too late," he said, and yelled at me for not being around my phone at all times "when you knew I didn't know where I was going!" and for giving blood when I was supposed to be getting pregnant.
He went back to work. I called the clinic and the gynecologist and was told that we could reschedule for the next day. The scheduler, whom I've talked to a lot in the past couple of months, was upset that I asked if that would do any good. It turns out Profasi stays in the system for around 36-48 hours and the eggs don't die until it's gone. This was going to be a little over that time limit, so I was dubious, but we'd already spent most of the money we were going to spend this month and I scheduled it despite Eric saying he'd given up for the month. Later he called back, and we made up and he agreed to try again on Friday.
Friday, armed with the new improved directions, he had no problems at all (except in locating the porn, he said--it was discreetly tucked underneath a towel, and he didn't find it until afterward). I accordingly arrived a few hours later, tucked "the boys" into my bra, which gave me the giggles, was told by the technician "Good luck--I hope I never see you again!" and drove off.
At the gynecologist's, everything went fine except that my cervix is apparently severely tilted, so the gynecologist had to shove the catheter to get it in the correct place and I therefore bled quite a bit more than I'd been led to expect. Also, they should have warned me to bring a book or grab a magazine. Their ceiling was not interesting enough to entertain me for the requisite 20 minutes on my back.
And now, we wait. I am now doubly hoping that it worked, because I saw that ThinkGeek now carries solar system mobiles and how totally awesome would that be for a nursery?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Adventures in infertility: Mr. Hyde has left the building
I started taking Clomid yesterday, per my doctor's orders. (Also, the day before that I called both my doctor and the local fertility clinic, to coordinate scheduling for getting a specimen from Eric and getting my ultrasound/Profasi/IUI set up. I much prefer the local fertility clinic's phone manner. The woman I spoke with was helpful, knowledgeable, and happy to explain each step of what I needed. The people at the doctor's office recognize my name--or the one woman does, anyway--but only give me useful information when I pull it out of them.) They're supposed to be taken the same time every day, and I decided noon sounded good.
I eyed the first one nervously before I popped it in my mouth. I'm not liking this part of the IUI prep, especially since I ovulate just fine. It feels too manipulative. Too steak-tastes-better. Also, I looked up the side effects and feared them: mood swings, uncontrollable crying, cramping, hot flashes, nausea, itchiness, headaches, exhaustion. I told Eric this list and apologized in advance. However, I took it. I waited a moment, said to myself, "No noticeable behavioral differences," and went about my day.
After a few hours I noticed that I was more aware of my female inner workings than I usually am at this time of month, but no actual pain, and it went away. Today, a slight headache that might be due to not enough to drink. Nothing else. Eric's moodier than I am. I'm still a bit wary, but feeling decently hopeful that this won't be such a big deal.
I eyed the first one nervously before I popped it in my mouth. I'm not liking this part of the IUI prep, especially since I ovulate just fine. It feels too manipulative. Too steak-tastes-better. Also, I looked up the side effects and feared them: mood swings, uncontrollable crying, cramping, hot flashes, nausea, itchiness, headaches, exhaustion. I told Eric this list and apologized in advance. However, I took it. I waited a moment, said to myself, "No noticeable behavioral differences," and went about my day.
After a few hours I noticed that I was more aware of my female inner workings than I usually am at this time of month, but no actual pain, and it went away. Today, a slight headache that might be due to not enough to drink. Nothing else. Eric's moodier than I am. I'm still a bit wary, but feeling decently hopeful that this won't be such a big deal.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Suddenly I'm more interested in the details of Obama's healthcare plan.
Now it's even more important that I straighten things out with the insurance company regarding my HSG. To wit: the $535 was just for my doctor to show up. The hospital's bill is $3,087. However I got no notice from Anthem about it, which suggests that the hospital didn't even try sending it to insurance. So I'm talking to them about that first. And if there's nothing I can do on that front, I'm going to talk to them about financing, because we don't have that much money. (Unless we take it out of our stocks, but that's a really bad idea right now. Putting it on a credit card would honestly be better. Yuck.)
I had my first interview today, for a real estate profile I'm doing for a local paper. I'd answered a Craigslist ad looking for local freelance writers, and this is my trial assignment. It went okay, though I did not feel polished or penetrating or anything particularly good, and the interviewee treated me like I knew something, which is the important bit, I think.
Tonight I'm writing up the article because this weekend is to be very busy with other freelance work (for the company that Jade introduced me to). This weekend Eric has no plans, so I'm hiring him to design a business card for me, because I felt foolish when my interviewee handed me his card and I had nothing to give him. I think it's time to go get a DBA. I don't know that it will help me or make me look more professional, but it'll be a nice shiny new toy for fairly cheap, and that would be a nice thing.
I had my first interview today, for a real estate profile I'm doing for a local paper. I'd answered a Craigslist ad looking for local freelance writers, and this is my trial assignment. It went okay, though I did not feel polished or penetrating or anything particularly good, and the interviewee treated me like I knew something, which is the important bit, I think.
Tonight I'm writing up the article because this weekend is to be very busy with other freelance work (for the company that Jade introduced me to). This weekend Eric has no plans, so I'm hiring him to design a business card for me, because I felt foolish when my interviewee handed me his card and I had nothing to give him. I think it's time to go get a DBA. I don't know that it will help me or make me look more professional, but it'll be a nice shiny new toy for fairly cheap, and that would be a nice thing.
Labels:
adventures in infertility,
freelancing,
interviewing
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Status check
Current status: Furious at the insurance company. When I called to check whether they would cover the HSG, they said they would. Now they say they don't touch anything with the word 'infertility' on it. Dad suggests filing a complaint with the company and the insurance general (never heard of this, but I'll go find out). It was $535, so I think it's worth it to spend the time--I already submitted an informal complaint through their "Contact Us" page, but I'll check my paperwork and see what I need to do for a formal one.
Also, they don't do CF carrier testing unless a relative actually has CF, not just results indicating he's a carrier. Even though that's effectively the same situation minus the tragedy. Also, we need an official letter from Eric's new insurance company before my company will take him off of mine. $%!@*&$ bureaucracy.
Michelle was over last night while the mothers were at a seminar. She did a little spinning while I worked on my quilt templates; then she said, "I’m bored. I'd rather talk," and proceeded to tell me all about her tumultous relationship with her erstwhile best friend. I don't think she realizes that they're not best friends anymore, even though she sounded like she was describing a failing marriage, but she was doing at least a little metacognition: "I'm sorry to spill all this. But if you don't mind--it's nice to be able to talk about it."
I finished one sock of the pair intended for Mom yesterday. It's going in the wash this weekend to see if it shrinks--if not, I may have to redo it. I also need some good instructions for left-handed Kitchener stitch. Maybe I'll sit down with some easier-to-use yarn and figure it out myself.
We looked at our Ameritrade account yesterday. We really shouldn't have. We've lost almost six thousand dollars. Luckily we don't need the money; but we're definitely going to build up some savings in the bank before we do any serious investing. Though I do keep talking about upping our 401k contributions and buying some stock, since it's nice and cheap now. Eric wonders how much cheaper it will get. When the stock market starts going back up will there be a sudden upswing as everyone realizes now is the time to buy, or will most people be skittish and wary?
Slightly relatedly, I'm waiting on a small freelancing check from the company I'm scheduled to do a crazy amount of work with in two weekends. No check, no work. I'm sure my contact knows this; she's talking to the accounting person herself to make sure it gets to me. I'm also waiting on three potential nibbles on other gigs, but not very hopeful about any of them.
Status: life as usual. I want a vacation.
Also, they don't do CF carrier testing unless a relative actually has CF, not just results indicating he's a carrier. Even though that's effectively the same situation minus the tragedy. Also, we need an official letter from Eric's new insurance company before my company will take him off of mine. $%!@*&$ bureaucracy.
Michelle was over last night while the mothers were at a seminar. She did a little spinning while I worked on my quilt templates; then she said, "I’m bored. I'd rather talk," and proceeded to tell me all about her tumultous relationship with her erstwhile best friend. I don't think she realizes that they're not best friends anymore, even though she sounded like she was describing a failing marriage, but she was doing at least a little metacognition: "I'm sorry to spill all this. But if you don't mind--it's nice to be able to talk about it."
I finished one sock of the pair intended for Mom yesterday. It's going in the wash this weekend to see if it shrinks--if not, I may have to redo it. I also need some good instructions for left-handed Kitchener stitch. Maybe I'll sit down with some easier-to-use yarn and figure it out myself.
We looked at our Ameritrade account yesterday. We really shouldn't have. We've lost almost six thousand dollars. Luckily we don't need the money; but we're definitely going to build up some savings in the bank before we do any serious investing. Though I do keep talking about upping our 401k contributions and buying some stock, since it's nice and cheap now. Eric wonders how much cheaper it will get. When the stock market starts going back up will there be a sudden upswing as everyone realizes now is the time to buy, or will most people be skittish and wary?
Slightly relatedly, I'm waiting on a small freelancing check from the company I'm scheduled to do a crazy amount of work with in two weekends. No check, no work. I'm sure my contact knows this; she's talking to the accounting person herself to make sure it gets to me. I'm also waiting on three potential nibbles on other gigs, but not very hopeful about any of them.
Status: life as usual. I want a vacation.
Labels:
adventures in infertility,
freelancing,
insurance,
knitting,
Michelle,
money
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Adventures in infertility: passing the buck
I was told to call the doctor's office when I started my period to get a scrip for Clomid. So yesterday I called and explained my request to the woman I spoke with--Ann--and added that I had questions about whether I was supposed to do an IUI as well and how that would work. She paused, said, "Hold on," and connected me to someone else, unnamed. The unnamed person heard my story, said, "Hold on," and connected me with Elaine. Elaine heard my story and said, "The only one who can answer your question is really the doctor. Let me have her call you back."
So I left my number and went off to phone training (not entirely useless because the icons on our new phones are not intuitive and they only have the icons on them, not, you know, labels) and of course got the call in the middle. After the session I found that the call had been from a Terry, not the doctor. Terry said to call her back, so I did. "You need to make an appointment with the doctor to discuss this," Terry said.
So I did, for Monday, which is too late for Clomid to work this month. Today I'm wondering if I should have insisted on the scrip anyway, and if I should call again today. Yesterday, since I was in the last throes of PMS, I quietly made the appointment and got off the phone quickly so that I wouldn't sound upset. But I was; I was disappointed, and they've switched stories on me without provocation. And this is not the best thing to do to a patient when you know perfectly well she has PMS because that's when you asked her to call.
So I left my number and went off to phone training (not entirely useless because the icons on our new phones are not intuitive and they only have the icons on them, not, you know, labels) and of course got the call in the middle. After the session I found that the call had been from a Terry, not the doctor. Terry said to call her back, so I did. "You need to make an appointment with the doctor to discuss this," Terry said.
So I did, for Monday, which is too late for Clomid to work this month. Today I'm wondering if I should have insisted on the scrip anyway, and if I should call again today. Yesterday, since I was in the last throes of PMS, I quietly made the appointment and got off the phone quickly so that I wouldn't sound upset. But I was; I was disappointed, and they've switched stories on me without provocation. And this is not the best thing to do to a patient when you know perfectly well she has PMS because that's when you asked her to call.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Adventures in infertility: HSG
(Note: TMI.)
I had my HSG this morning. Once I found the right department (radiology) and was routed to an entirely different department (cardiology) to register--hospitals don't seem to believe that they have patients who have never been there before and don't know the procedures--it went smoothly. I was double-bagged in two hospital gowns, one opening in front, the other in back. I sat in the little radiology room while we waited for my gynecologist, and then when everything was set up, me on the table with my knees apart and a tenaculum clinging to my cervix, we waited for the radiologist. "He'll be right there," reported the nurse/technician/my best friend throughout the process.
"They always say that," said the gynecologist. "I always want to go attach a tenaculum to their scrotum. Then we'll wait as long as you like!"
At length the radiologist came and the procedure--consisting entirely of depressing the plunger, adding more dye, and depressing the plunger again--began. The radiologist completely blocked my view while it was ongoing, but once the assembly had been pulled out of me and the camera was put away, they showed me my innards as seen by X-ray. The uterus is fine, the left tube is fine, the right tube is blocked. That seems about right to me; I generally feel more activity on the left down there. "So we know we've got one to work with," the gynecologist concluded. "Next cycle we'll get you on some Clomid and go from there. Your husband had an SA, right?"
"Yes. Everything normal except a slightly low count."
"Then all the more reason to go on the Clomid. We've got to give him more to bat at."
The gynecologist left; my best friend cleaned up and told me she was on Clomid, too, and waited for me to get up. Which I did, four times; the first three I got dizzy and my ears closed, and I laid right back down. Eventually she gave me some juice and a cold compress and the fourth try took.
I was told to take the day off to rest; from what I'd read I figured that was unnecessary but wasn't going to argue. I feel both ways about it now. I'm okay, and I could certainly be sitting at my desk at work, but there's some residual weirdness and weakness (solely from my complete wussiness when it comes to medical procedures--I do the same thing when I give blood and I despise my weakness, but I don't seem to be able to do anything about it) and I'm glad to be able to stay home the rest of the day. So, I shall go bake bread and read and enjoy my sick day.
I had my HSG this morning. Once I found the right department (radiology) and was routed to an entirely different department (cardiology) to register--hospitals don't seem to believe that they have patients who have never been there before and don't know the procedures--it went smoothly. I was double-bagged in two hospital gowns, one opening in front, the other in back. I sat in the little radiology room while we waited for my gynecologist, and then when everything was set up, me on the table with my knees apart and a tenaculum clinging to my cervix, we waited for the radiologist. "He'll be right there," reported the nurse/technician/my best friend throughout the process.
"They always say that," said the gynecologist. "I always want to go attach a tenaculum to their scrotum. Then we'll wait as long as you like!"
At length the radiologist came and the procedure--consisting entirely of depressing the plunger, adding more dye, and depressing the plunger again--began. The radiologist completely blocked my view while it was ongoing, but once the assembly had been pulled out of me and the camera was put away, they showed me my innards as seen by X-ray. The uterus is fine, the left tube is fine, the right tube is blocked. That seems about right to me; I generally feel more activity on the left down there. "So we know we've got one to work with," the gynecologist concluded. "Next cycle we'll get you on some Clomid and go from there. Your husband had an SA, right?"
"Yes. Everything normal except a slightly low count."
"Then all the more reason to go on the Clomid. We've got to give him more to bat at."
The gynecologist left; my best friend cleaned up and told me she was on Clomid, too, and waited for me to get up. Which I did, four times; the first three I got dizzy and my ears closed, and I laid right back down. Eventually she gave me some juice and a cold compress and the fourth try took.
I was told to take the day off to rest; from what I'd read I figured that was unnecessary but wasn't going to argue. I feel both ways about it now. I'm okay, and I could certainly be sitting at my desk at work, but there's some residual weirdness and weakness (solely from my complete wussiness when it comes to medical procedures--I do the same thing when I give blood and I despise my weakness, but I don't seem to be able to do anything about it) and I'm glad to be able to stay home the rest of the day. So, I shall go bake bread and read and enjoy my sick day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)