*I saw, I conquered, I got poked for blood. Again.
Yesterday, I took my first solid step into the land of IVF Number 2. I plunked down the Mastercard, attended the IVF Class, gave up the first of many vials of blood and, (bonus!) got an SHG to start things off with cramps a bang. I was out of there in an hour and a half.
First things first. We made the payment for the entire cycle on the plastic and I had a very inappropriate laugh with the financial coordinator about how many points I was earning on the conception of my hopefully future child. It was then that she just had to share with me that she had IVF in December and was pregnant. Talk about a double sucker punch – pay five figures AND get a pregnancy announcement.
Now, if you’ll excuse me for one second while I say something very rude: “WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU SHARE THIS WITH ME, ME WHO YOU CAN EASILY SEE FROM THE CHART IN FRONT OF YOU HAS HAD TWO MISCARRIAGES, BOTH AROUND THE GESTATION THAT YOU ARE AT NOW? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, WITH THAT STUPID GRIN ON YOUR FACE AND VERY ANNOYING ASSUMPTION THAT I MUST BE HAPPY FOR YOU? RULE NUNMBER 1 OF WORKING AT AN INFERTILITY CLINIC, HONEY: NEVER, EVER SHARE YOUR REPRODUCTIVE HISTORY OR STATUS WITH PATIENTS, OR MORE PARTICULARLY, WITH ME. IT’S BAD ENOUGH THAT I’M GOING TO HAVE TO WATCH YOUR BELLY EXPAND. I WISH YOU WOULD HAVE NOT TOLD ME AND JUST LET ME DECEIVE MYSELF THAT YOU WERE GETTING FAT.”
Ah, I feel better.
I didn’t have much time to collect myself before I was called back and told to pee in a cup and whip off everything below the waist. I stood there for a minute, looking very stupid, and said, “but I thought I was here for the IVF class?” Apparently, it was decided without my knowledge that yesterday was also SHG time! At least this gave me very little time to ponder what a terrible experience with an SHG I had had before. So, I went and peed in a cup, knowing that it was likely for a pregnancy test which I could have told them would be as white as snow (“UPT was negative,” the nurse chirped). I delivered the precious cargo to the nurse and went in to the exam room to do my favorite strip tease. Flat on the exam table, I waited for Dr. Salsa to appear and amused myself by looking at the screen on the ceiling to see what the dildocam looks like when it is not dildocaming (pretty much as incomprehensible as it does when it is dildocaming).
Dr. Salsa promptly arrived and looked like…. Ted Kacz.ynski? Apparently, he has decided to start growing a beard. I looked at him with furrowed brows and successfully fought the urge to point out the similarity. I also subtly shook my head at the coincidence: when I first started seeing Dr. Uterus, he too had the Mountain Man beard thing going on. He shaved it off about half way through our relationship. Now Dr. Salsa has begun to grow the Mountain Man beard. What is it with my REs and beards?
Dr. Salsa was damned efficient. He had that catheter in before I could say “hey, where are you sticking that?!” and then it was time for the dildocam and saline action. Everytime he would push in saline, he would say, “and now, some cramping” and he was so not kidding, and I would yelp. We did this twice and then, thankfully, he stopped squirting water into my lady parts and merely took a perfunctory looks at my ovaries which he pronounced, “photogenic.” I would think that he was trying to pick me up except that he already had me on my back. I’m easy that way.
With the SHG (or “mapquesting of my uterus” as the nurse called it) finished, I headed over to the patient education room waiting to learn all that the IVF masters had to teach me. Pretty quickly I realized that it was as I had thought. It was IVF 101, or what I would have loved to have heard the first time around but is no longer information that I didn’t know. Some highlights though – they do a lot more monitoring than Dr. Uterus did and they will work with the schedule so that all procedures will be done when Mr. X is in town. I also learned how to use the Follistim pen and that they will allow a subcutaneous HCG injection, rather than the intramuscular that Dr. Uterus swore was the only thing that would work.
I then gave up the vial of blood to test for exotic diseases and I was released.
So, I’m feeling ok about getting started again. There is enough that is done differently – different protocol, different medicine, different doctor, different procedures – that mentally I don’t feel as if this is just a repeat of our last IVF and may not automatically be a repeat of how it ended. Right now, that’s about all I can ask for. Well, that, and for the lady at the office to NOT share her news with any other patients.