Thank God I'm not the only one.


I'm pleasantly disturbed with my doctor's office right now. I know, how can a person be pleasantly disturbed, right? Oxymoron? Maybe. But that's what happened. Let me tell you about it.

I went back for my post-op appointment last week. I had a "consultation" with my doctor, some other doctor, and a resident doctor (who I think is the same guy that came in to talk to me right before the surgery and just after the versed and fentanyl. So, while I don't remember much of the conversation or what he actually looked like- no rainbows and such this time- I do know what my mother told me I said to him, and that made me a little embarrassed to see him again.)

The consultation reaped a plan. More of the same- six months of Lupron, then another surgery. He then added what I KNEW was coming, and I had steeled both myself and my husband for what was surely to become the persuasion of the year(s). He said "... then after the second surgery we will begin going over the options to get you pregnant..." STEEL. STEEL. STEEL. (See that? I was made of steel.) I'm not hearing you. La la la la la. You all may not understand, but IVF is not an option. If I can't have a baby naturally, then it's not in the cards. That's just my opinion for myself, and I hold those who can afford to take the risk in highest regards. If that is you, I am hap hap happy for you. I cannot and I will not spend that much money and heart (not to mention the heart!) on a gamble. While I won't be perfectly content with never having another child, I know that eventually I will be some semblance of content. Maybe I'll change my mind in the future. I don't know.

Back to my pleasantly disturbed-ness. My doc said that he would have the nurse talk to me about the Lupron and get my stitches out. (I only had two left, you see, cuz I lifted a person at work, and popped out the one by my belly button. That hurt.) The doctor shook our hands and left the room, then this nurse came in (young, new. I knew she was new because at the pre-op visit she told me she was new) and said since I was on CD 4 I couldn't get my Lupron for this month, and to call with the start of my next period. She was reading through the doctor's orders there in front of me, with a puzzled look on her face. And if I know anything, I know about puzzling doctor's orders. But she was just a little too dumbfounded. (I haven't even mentioned the fact that my BP was high and I told her I thought I was getting a kidney infection, hence the higher BP... and she said, yeah, sometimes pain will cause your BP to be high. I don't expect you internets to know about the angiotensin-renin cycle involving your kidneys and your blood pressure and their relationship, but I did expect another RN to know that. GEEZ. I couldn't say anything, cuz in my head I was all DUHHHHHH.) Needless to say, I thought she was an idiot. I could do her job SO MUCH BETTER. She then took us to "Sharon's Office" which is code for "the place you find out just how much of your wallet/lifesavings/promise of firstborn children you owe to us." I hate the words "Sharon's Office," so I totally forgot the whole taking-the-stitches-out thing, and the whole WHY CAN'T I HAVE MY LUPRON YET thing.

So, here I sit, ovulating with no lupron on board, in a post clean-out-surgery cycle. Guess what I've been doing?