advocate, reprise

I was going to leave this in the comments section, but it got long and I got itchy to proofread and spell check and the box got little, and...

1. In my case, I was dealing with a few additional variables with respect to the clinic and doctorS that I was seeing that I chose not to share here that had an impact on my overall experience (also, in retrospect, I was feeling cranky and probably defensive when I wrote that post.)

2. I still do believe in advocating for yourself, just know that doctors are people too with all of the positive qualities and shortcomings that the rest of us have. Some listen to their patients; others are less interested in patient-interaction. They're people and while some people are wonderful, others suck ass.

With regards to infertility, it seems like many people feel like they're just a number or are on a cookie-cutter protocol. Some don't care and it may not make a difference in their treatment anyway. For others, individualized care can be a major issue.

Know how to work YOUR system. I often let my doctor tell me in detail things that I already know, because I've found he's less receptive to higher level discussions if I interrupt. A waste of time? Maybe. But I get a better response from him when I let him go through his process first. I've had other doctors who were relieved that I already knew what they were talking about. I've had some who hadn't read my chart, weren't listening to me anyway, and no matter what I said or how I said it, I wasn't going to get anywhere. Just another form of "know your audience."

3. In the US, it is NOT LEGAL to deny you a copy of your records.

You're entitled to inspect, obtain a copy of, and amend your own records. Most offices have a procedure in place for these requests; all hospitals do. If your clinic/doctor does not have a request form for you to fill out, put your request in writing. In the link I added to the original post there's an example request.

um, that was disgusting.

Have you seen the new clearblue commercial?

You know, the one lauding "the most sophisticated piece of technology you will ever pee on."

The one with the faux urine splashing down on the stick?

just. ew.

advocate

I used to believe that the patient was his own best advocate until I was at my last clinic. Unfortunately many health care professionals do not believe that an informed patient with questions about his own care is any more than a headache or a nuisance.

Obviously not always true, but I'm learning that there's much more to it than simply advocating for yourself. You have to be careful not to injure egos or offend doctors because you just might end up worse off (I sure did!)

Unfortunately not everyone has the means or ability to change providers when they find themselves stuck with a doctor who sees a patient who questions his decisions as a problem. Once you've been labeled a problem patient it is very difficult (impossible?) to be seen any differently.

I do advocate getting a copy of your records because that's the only way to know what's in them. My old records have some very unflattering comments about me. Knowing this , I was able to make the decision not to transfer my records to my new clinic and hand-select the parts that were relevant (test result sheets) while leaving out the pages that included rude commentary.

By law, we are all entitled to access our medical records and obtain a copy of them (hospital records too.) I think particularly in regards to fertility this can be helpful to the patient who usually is a bigger part of the decision-making process.



***
Added:

taken from privacy rights clearinghouse re: hipaa/medical records

How do I get access to my own medical records?

HIPAA requires health care providers, health plans, and health care clearinghouse to allow you access to your medical records. Notices you receive from providers and plans must include information about how you can obtain copies of your medical records.

In addition to HIPAA, about half the states have laws that allow patients or their designated representatives to access medical records. Laws usually allow health care facilities to charge a "reasonable" fee for copying records.

If you receive care in a federal medical facility, you have a right to obtain your records under the federal Privacy Act of 1974 (5 USC sec. 552a, www.usdoj.gov/foia/privstat.htm)

We advise that you make your request in writing. For a sample letter, see www.privacyrights.org/Letters/medical2.htm. If you are denied access, you can file a complaint with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Service's Office of Civil Rights. (Contact information is provided at the end of this guide). Your state's medical privacy law might also enable you to file a complaint with state regulators.

PSA

Get a copy of your surgery report.

Apparently, one of my ovaries was adhered to my pelvic wall and no one told me.

There were a couple other details that I didn't know until I read the actual report. I'm not sure that this actually means anything, as they're all pretty minor findings (other than the endo and the fibroid that I already knew about,) but the details do matter when you're trying to formulate a plan for the future.

red sock in my whites

setting: day three cyst check. I'm pants-free and the nurse has assumed the ute-check position.

nurse: did you get a regular period?
me: yes, why?
nurse: (still examining ute) your lining looks unusually thick
me: oh
nurse: you had bloodwork, right?
me: yeah, why? (I know why)
nurse: (mumbling) they do check hcg...

I tear up and pretend not to process what she's suggesting. I've had regular, red, clotty bleeding that was most certainly not implantation or any other such thing. I know I'm not pregnant.

She continues to poke around at my still-sore ovaries and declares my cysts too big (no freakin' duh) and offers me free samples of bcps. I tell her I still have some and she hands me a tissue for the tears that are trying so difficult not to escape. She tells me not to take anything until the evening in case they call me. Goody. A whole day of waiting to find out that I'm not pregnant. Even though I know I'm not, that teeny tiny piece of hope is enough to make me miserable.

***

I'm pretty sure we're done with IUIs. Clearly, they're not working. A case could be made that now that the endo is gone, there's a better shot now and there's no reason not to try a couple more times. Right now I'm thinking that we won't bother though.

For the last few days I've been hypersensitive. I've been doing a lot of crying. Nothing exceptional has happened, I'm just sad. Mourning, I guess.

fuck part four

Well, that miserable bitch of a cycle is over.

The extreme bloat is finally gone and I can pretty much button my pants and sit down in them without "discomfort." What a relief, right? gah. How many more times am I going to do this to myself? That's a post for a less emotional day. Fucking hormones.

***

I meant to post this weeks ago and forgot. Sorry.

My lap recovery looked like:

Wednesday: surgery midday. They won't let you leave until you pee. This is much harder for some people than others, and I was told not to plan on being out of the hospital before dinnertime. I excelled at peeing and was asking for my pants (flannel, big, with penguins) as soon as they'd let me have them. I brought a pillow for the car ride home, but the painkillers were keeping me pretty comfortable already. Couch-bound for the rest of the evening/night.

Thursday: worst day. I was miserable with gas pains in my shoulder and the best way to get rid of it is to either lay completely flat (which didn't always help) or get up and walk around (which was sore on my abs.) The painkillers seemed less effective and my insides felt all mushy and unstable. I was walking in slow circles in my living room like a loon and feeling awful from both types of pain!

Friday: still on prescription painkillers. Spent most of the day on the couch. Still asking my mommy to please tie my shoes for me because bending--- no, thanks.

Saturday: painkillers am only. Felt much better, but not 100%. Still asking my mommy to please tie my shoes for me because bending was still unpleasant. Tired easily.

Sunday: I was feeling well enough to be on motrin (800) only, and was able to drive. I still felt much more tired than usual and couldn't stay out too long.

Monday: Wore regular pants again for short periods of time when I wasn't going to have to bend.

Tuesday: post-op appointment. Wore regular pants all day, stitches came out and was cleared for all activities that I felt like.

I kept band-aids/gauze pads over my incisions much longer than necessary (even after the stitches were out) because the sites were still sore if they had contact with my pants, panties, or an animal's enormous freaking paw. I highly recommend this.

At about one month after I still felt occasional pains inside near incision sites or areas that were cleaned up/manipulated, but it wasn't really bad and I didn't need to take anything for it.

So there it is.

Good luck, Liv, on your surgery this week!

Part three

Did you think I would leave these guys out?


Boy


Girl kissing Boy


Girl


I just love this.


Sharing "hand me down" toys from my mom's puppy.

They were pretty good at my IL's for Christmas. They each got to open a present and Boy just ran happily in a circle with his wrapped toy in his mouth. Girl knew just what to do with hers and she ripped right into it. One of P's siblings gave them a bucket of treats too, and naturally they were very grateful. Girl was good about wearing her antlers, but Boy kept trying to remove his so we gave up on that.

Part two

Christmas? Let's not talk about that yet. First, I must share with you some of my favorite holiday photos:











As you might imagine, it's not so helpful to have a kitty in your bag of bows. But he knew better. He'd found the holy grail.

Follow Up, Part One

Ok, so you know how I said I contacted a friend out of the blue and all that? Well, she was going to call me on a particular day and then didn't. No big deal, right? Well, not usually, but when you're dealing with a person (me) who is already feeling a little nervous about putting herself out there, you don't stand that person up on a phone date! Not having been in contact, I had no way of knowing what her life circumstances are and what may have come up. Also, some people are much more lax about when they call someone even when they say, "I'll call you on Saturday." Anyway, it turns out that she got sick and then last week was a mess for everyone. So I took a shot and called her yesterday. It went really well. We chatted for about an hour and I'm really glad I took the initiative to look her up and then call. We're going to exchange pictures of our pets and stuff and we had new things in common that we didn't have before.

I can be really shy and feel awkward about the silliest things, so it was good for me to get such a positive response. It's funny, people who know me don't usually think of me as shy, so I guess I mask it well. I try to at least project confidence when I can. Really, though, I'm a homebody.

***also, I'm sorry I've neglected your blogs. I've been reading though...

CD11: I am envious of my sleeping kitty.

There's no reason for me to be tired, but I am. I feel lazy, apathetic, and completely unmotivated. To do anything. I have several started-posts for you and a couple things rolling around in my head, but up until this very minute (or succession of minutes) I have gone to blogger today only to navigate away because I didn't feel like signing in.

This cycle has been very tiring for me. The very first time I used injectibles I felt tired too, but not much since then. Now I just want to nap. Hopefully I'll feel better now that I've triggered. I grew my BiggestFollicleEver (BFE) from the ovary now known as PowerHouse. And I grew it in record time. It's not alone, but where my best one usually comes with three or four associates, this one has but a single sidekick. The nurse thought I was silly to be upset about this.

"One is all we want."
"But I've had four and got nothing."
"Twins are one thing, but-"
"No, no, I don't want four follicles and four babies! I just want a chance..."

and she nods at me, understanding, in the way that the really good ones do, that it's not just about risk management, but also about my life.

So, I'm pretending that BFE is healthy and that it will, free from the malevolent influence of endo, produce a chromosomally normal egg that is ready to fertilize, implant, and grow properly in the correct spot for the correct amount of time and that it's a good thing that even though I've had perfect cycles before that this time all the differences are going to come together to make that distinctly more important difference. What a hideously long sentence. Oh, also, since it's so big (and I don't think it's really that big, just bigger than I've ever had, and especially since I triggered early this month) I'm concerned that I'll ovulate too early and that P's contribution won't have a chance. In case you were wondering, I never run out of things to worry about.

CD7: All I want for Christmas...

CD6: I've sprung a leak!

Today, I bled. I must not have put enough pressure on after my blood draw, but I bled through the gauze and bandaid and it was yucky all over my arm inside my shirt.

I've been meaning to give an update on the friend thing, but I don't have one yet.

There's something else that's happening, and I'd love any goodwill you all could think over in this direction (it's not baby-related.) I would like to post about it here, but... too many personal details out in the internet, I think.

CD5: more fun with pharmacies

Last August I had a fabulous time trying to fill my gonal-f prescription. The problem, whatever it happens to be, did not get fixed and the pharmacy still wants to short me five pens, and I'm not at all happy about it. I WILL get this fixed.

CD3: lucky seven

1. Ok, so I didn't exactly pull an Irish Girl, but I did eat some chocolate intended for P's stocking.
2. I had cysts, but they were small enough to start fsh anyway.
3. I discovered that my ovidrel prescription has refills, but I should have filled it before the 6th so I need a new prescription anyway.
4. Some nurses do NOT have a sense of humor or ability to chat.
5. Apparently, the time you're scheduled to come in is not always the time they PLAN to see you. For example, my appointment was for 7:15, I was on time, I waited until 7:45 and the nurse commented that they were "right on schedule."
6. Some people take, "It seems like I bruise a lot, but not nearly as much with you!" as a compliment!
7. Puppies got baths today because they smelled horrible. Then Girl peed on a rug. I washed the rug and put it back. Then Boy peed on the same rug. Washing it again. We haven't had any accidents in weeks, and they both had one today. grr.

CD2: the first casualty

This weekend we had our first gift casualty. Girl found and unwrapped one of P's presents for him.

P: Uh, thanks for the hat dear.
Me: Oh, yeah, you're welcome.

Later...

P: I got you three presents.
Me: I got you two so far, but there are two others that I want you to have.
P: Yes, I know. You got me... a hat.

Even Later:

P: I got a hat for Christmas. What's in the other one? Gloves or a scarf?
Me: Shut up.

Later still:

Me: Do you even like the hat?
P: Yeah, I needed one.
Me: It's moisture-wicking on the inside. You know, for running.
P: I see that.
Me: Do you want to just have it now? I could wrap it back up.
P: (puts the hat on in an attempt to prevent the re-wrap)

Going to sleep:

P: What are my other presents?
Me: You wanna just go open the other one up?
P: No, I have a hat.
Me: (grumbling) It would've been better with all the other presents.

CD1: home therapy

Like CAT, I have some kitty + tree = trouble photos.

These are from last year:

there's a single shoe suspended midair

In the interest of making the very most of our try-on-our-own post-lap month, I dusted (ok, washed) off my basal thermometer and pretended I didn't know any better. I hadn't tracked my temps in over a year, but my pattern was just the same as it always had been. Anyway, that's all just to say that my temp dropped yesterday and was low again today, so I expect my period any moment now. It's especially exciting in that P's been gone for a week and will be home today. And there's no anniversary baby.

Maybe it will just go away?

I don't know what the deal is with comments.
I haven't changed anything.
I've been able to comment when I was already signed in and by signing in inside the comment box, so I don't know what the problem is.

It looks like I'm not the only one. I'm guessing it's a beta issue. Others have brought it up in the help section, so hopefully it will be resolved soon.

***Blogger update*** "Logging in with an old Blogger account to post a comment on the new Blogger is giving a “please try again later” error. Until we fix this, it may work to log in first at http://www.blogger.com/login.g, and then go to the comments page on the new version of blogger in beta."

I don't know if this helps any of you...

I'm a big chicken, but I did it!

I looked up a couple old friends.

And contacted them.

And asked them for a favor.

And even though my face got really hot and I realized that I was calling someone with the same name but who was not my friend, I still didn't puke out of nervousness.

sometimes, it just catches you by surprise

P is not the most patient person. He abhors waiting, be it in a line, in traffic, or waiting to purchase something that he wants. He's a tough guy to buy for sometimes because if he really wants something, he just buys it. I yelled at him in Target last week because he wouldn't stop asking if he could purchase something that I intended to get him for Christmas.

***

Like many people, I once worked in a mall. From my storefront I could see the center court where Santa and his helpers were making a tidy profit on crappy pictures. I always thought it must suck to stand in that long line of cranky children waiting to see the fake Santa (now, if he was the real one...)

***

P called me from a mall last night and told me how cute the children were.

He said, "I'd stand in line for that." And here at home my heart broke a little bit.

searches

I started this post a while back and just found it in my drafts pile. I've added some recent searches because, well, the cat pee thing has made me mighty popular among urine-infused households all over the country(illinois santa clara. Usually I get hits from having Grey's Anatomy on my sidebar and I get people looking for the Buffy episode that's my title. However, I've also been found by...

"gonal-f" I still *heart* the gonal-f pen, by the way, and I seem to respond well to it even though I've been busy growing endo on my ovaries. If you got here by searching for "gonal-f," whatcha lookin' for? If you have a question, please ask! I'm no expert, but I know injectables can be scary if you're just starting, and the more info you can find, the better.

Sorry, I don't have any info on "burst cyst on cat" but I hope your cat is ok. Burst cysts suck, and kitties are wonderful.

Also, I'm very interested in "pillsbury frosting versus betty crocker." Is this some sort of taste test I could participate in? What did you bake? Ok, I know you probably read my blog just the one time, but just in case you were sucked in my my bitching and actually came back for more, I'd love to know your thoughts on this.

If you're curious about "implantation feeling" this is not the place for you. I promise, right now, that I'll never blog about suspicious twinges or pulling below the bellybutton. Especially since I'm still feeling the odd pain at my lap inscision sites and inside where my organs were manipulated and lasered. Go eat your pineapple and talk to me in a year.

Ohmygoodness, do I wish that it was as easy as "getting a flat stoach with fibroids."

Sorry, if you're looking for photos or an "interesting" story, the "wet spot on the bedsheets" here is not the fun you're looking for. Wet spot on the exam table when the nurse used too much gel during a wanding, maybe...

I'm currently #11 on "removing pee on mattress." My best advise: douse with nature's miracle, allow to dry, repeat as needed. My research indicates that the smell may take up to 1-2 weeks to go away as the enzymes in the nature's miracle have to take time to break down the urine. In a related (I think) story, "washing sheets cat peed on vinegar?" Um, your cat peed on the vinegar? If your cat peed on something, vinegar is not the answer. Vinegar masks the smell of urine to humans, but animals can still smell urine. When the vinegar dries, you'll probably smell urine again too. And it does not remove the stain.

Then there's my personal favorite, "i'm going insane."

research methods

so, in my sample of six (my four commenters, P, and me) there are four lickers and two pudding-wasters non-lickers. Thank you for your commitment to research, and you may wish to stop reading here. continue at your own risk with the knowledge that you'll never get that time back.

there are currently 300,364,113 americans (21:35 GMT (EST+5) Dec 08, 2006)

approx 5,000,000 are under 1, so they don't eat pudding

approx 39,948,427 are below the poverty line and possibly can't afford pudding (although if they do buy it, perhaps they're less likely to waste the part on the lid?)

this leaves 255,415,686 people

surely not everyone likes pudding, and some people may even be allergic. we'll go with 1/6 since that's how many couples are infertile, and this is obviously unrelated to that but.... that's another 42,654,420 to deduct leaving 212,761,266 pudding-consuming americans.

however.

2/3 of all americans are on a diet or are trying to lose weight. of those, 1/3 are being diligent, 1/3 are cheating but feeling guilty, and the remaining 1/3 are currently buying pudding. so we'll remove another 1/3, or 99,120,157 leaving 113,641,109 people.

some people don't eat individual pudding cups but will eat the boxed kind. for instance, my fatherinlaw only eats the kind you have to cook. we'll go with 1/6 again because I feel like it and because there are usually 6 puddings in a package. 18,940,184. this decreases our population to 94,700,925.

did you know I don't even buy pudding for myself? I buy it for P.

anyway, some 34,000,000 people watch american idol. I have no idea why. their opinions, however, can't be trusted, so they don't get a vote. i forgot to remove them earlier, but i'll do it here since you all can't possibly still be reading and we'll just pretend that's what they put the margin of error in for in the first place. 60,700,925 is a much better sample.

speaking of samples, no, we weren't speaking of samples.

the whole point was to tell you that my sample size of six people is very appropriate and yields a confidence interval of 35%. this means that my survey is probably over a third accurate.

there are lots of good things about one third. one third of women 40-69 are dating a man 10 or more years younger. good for them. i think. one third of parks have between 100 and 500 acres. who doesn't like a big park? approximately one third of twins are identical, one third same-sex fraternal, and the final third are the infertile's coveted boy/girl twins.

so you see, one third is very good, my sample is sufficient to say that you people throwing away unlicked lids are not only in the minority, but will also not date a younger man, go to a big park, or have boy/girl twins.

A 'yes' or 'no' coment will do

Do you lick the lid of the pudding before you put it in the trash?

6-6

Boy, 6 weeks



Boy, 6 months



Girl, 6 weeks



Girl, 6 months



Girl and Boy, 6 weeks



Boy and Girl, 6 months



Girl and Boy, 6 weeks



Boy and Girl, 6 months

On dieting

Says my verybestfriend:

I know, but I just don't care enough to put down the cookie.


Indeed.

Oh, the stench

the answer is:
c) all of the above

I blame TSA for the shampoo thing. Because of my compulsive careful packing, there's really no other way for my bottle to have opened up in the way it did. No matter though, the damage was done. My travel case is pretty well wrecked and I am now out of shampoo.

Is there anything that smells worse than cat pee? We left a couple windows open while we were away and then had really high winds that slammed the door to the litter box closet shut. We don't know which day this happened. We did play a rousing post-anniversary game of "find the feces" which is always a romantic treat. Then we realized that they had to have peed somewhere too and we continued the search.

My big kitty has a wicked sense of humor and has, in the not-recent past has preferred to pee in symbolic places when he needed to make a point. When I first started dating P and was spending a lot of time away from home, Big Kitty would pee on my dirty clothes that must have smelled like P. This time, however, he left the laundry basket alone so I was stumped.

I thought I found the jackpot when I saw a large wet spot on the large puppy pillow. I was laughing inside as I threw it into the washing machine. Leave it to my boy to tell me what he really thinks of having puppies. I was a little surprised that that was the only spot, but we didn't find anything else, so I didn't worry about it.

Well, P found the money spot. Someone peed on our bed. It soaked through to the mattress. Back to the basement to wash the sheets and blankets. It's at freezing now, so we need them all clean. It was exactly what I had in mind after our travels. So grateful to be able to wash four loads of laundry in one evening.

How do you get pee out of a mattress? Well, I googled "cat pee on mattress" and "remove urine from mattress" and basically I got behavior advice (which I'm not really worried about, the boys never pee outside the box and I believe it was just about not having access and freaking out) and ads for various products.

Use vinegar. Vinegar never works, it just smells like vinegar. Begin with cold water. Don't use water because it will spread the urine. I ended up dousing the spot with nature's miracle and then wondering why, after washing my hands fourteen times that I was still smelling cat piss. Oh, it was on my sleeve. Add that to the wash.

At this point I had to deal with the wet spot on the bed. And we didn't even get to have fun first. After using a fan and an open window, I tried using a hairdryer to get the bed ready. It worked okay. I put a blanket under the bottom sheet and began to remake the bed. I tested it and nothing seemed to come up. I went to get my comforter from the dryer and it wasn't dry. So I dried it again. And again. And I gave up so it's air-drying in another room (I have since decided to have it professionally cleaned even though I don't see or smell a stain. It's new and I'm neurotic. Sue me.) Then I gathered up my collection of "I'm from the west coast" lightweight blankets and piled them on the bed.

The good news: We were not cold in the night.

The bad news: P eventually felt some wetness and was uncomfortable. I can still smell the pee and have gone for another round with the rest of the nature's miracle. Have re-googled for tips and cried to my mother. P wants a whole new mattress. I have re-washed the bottom sheet and under-blanket. Again.

Charleston, SC (historic district)

Before I tell you about my trip, a little quiz.

Everything I own is covered in:

a) shampoo
b) cat pee
c) both
d) neither

yeah, welcome home. *eyeroll*

Where am I?

P and I are off celebrating our anniversary. Hoping for a drunk-on-champagne-anniversary baby (ok, so not exactly hoping, but you know, it could happen. In theory. And urban legends.)

ask away

Glad I can be of help on the lap stuff.

I wish more doctors listened to their patients when they asked questions about symptoms or procedures. It makes me a little sick to think that I could have had this taken care of THREE YEARS AGO if someone would have just listened to me. I could have avoided much pain, wondering, and wasted time if only...

But it's donenow , and as the recovery period passes I find myself even more glad to have done it. I've found more info on exactly how endo on your ovaries is a problem and hopefully having it removed will be all it takes for us.

It's not in my head, I'm not exaggerating, and I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG!

or, how I decided to have a lap.

I knew I had endo. I would have bet on it, and I'm really, really not a gambler.

some of my symptoms were:

• Pain regularly at the end/beginning of my cycle that included severe lower backaches and pain that radiated down one leg. I self-medicated with wine or tequila in the morning. This interrupted my daily activity, and that is not normal (still, try to convince certain asshole doctors of that.)
• Spotting pre and post period
• A family member with severe adenomyosis/endometriosis with a hysterectomy in her 30s
• Infertility

Some other things that I've experienced that may or may not be related are:

• fatigue
• heavy clotting (but not necessarily heavy periods)
• retroverted uterus

These symptoms did not happen back when I was on the pill prior to ttc and got progressively worse around the one year ttc mark. During the second and third years the pain increased in both severity and regularity, but seemed to plateau sometime after the three year mark.

One of my choices was to continue medicated IUIs. If the timing would have worked out, I might have tried another or couple more of these first because I have some insurance coverage for this. Limited is better than none. But because I have to sit out a cycle on bcps after each cycle, the timing can be unpredictable and it takes forever. With the holidays coming up, I would have been ready to IUI on or very near thanksgiving and we have plans to go to DH's parents' house (ugh, in retrospect, what a fab way to have gotten to stay home!) and we didn't want to deal with timing issues/stress. Plus, who wants to keep failing for no reason at all?

The doctor also said to consider IVF. He said that there was no reason that my cycles were failing, so IUI could work, but since it wasn't, we shouldn't waste too much more time on that. He didn't push for IVF which was a little surprising, since that's where the money is. The benefit here is that if I had endo, the theory is that IVF bypasses the places where those problems usually show up. Personally, I think they don't know nearly enough about how endo effects conception/implantation/embryo growth/etc to say that. But it's a common enough thought. The big downside? Zero insurance coverage.

So, we have the lap. I've wanted it for years now, and hoped that having a diagnosis (though I've had a few diagnoses added and removed in the last few years already) would make it easier to go forward both literally and especially psychologically. Plus, if there was a chance for pain relief, YAY. I know you don't have to have all or ANY of the classic endo symptoms to have the disease. I read somewhere that something like 20% of ALL women have endo (though they may be asymptomatic and/or fertile.) The whole "unexplained" thing isn't good enough for me when there are still diagnostic options on the table.

Really, there wasn't a question about whether I was going to have the surgery. I considered all my options, but P and I both knew from the start that we were going to end up going for it. I did have some anxiety about it, which surprised me. I think I wanted to feel better about having made the decision, having a surgery date, etc., and that didn't happen.

Am I glad that I did it? Yes. I knew going in that there was a chance they'd find nothing, and that I had to be ok with that. I wanted answers, so I was willing to take that chance. For me, it was absolutely worth it just to know.

So, I had the lap.

I do have endo, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It's a strange disease. The places that it was found really had no relation to the location of my pain. I guess that's not so unusual, but it was a little disappointing. I was hoping for answers, but I'm not sure I got them.

Guest Blogger: The Kitten

It's all about me.

I'm naughty, of course, but my natural cuteness has saved me from exile on more than one occasion. Mom used to threaten me with the dumpster, but not for a while now. Either I have her completely charmed or else that dumpster thing was always a load of crap. Speaking of which, I made a smelly one this morning! Oh, it was fabulous. Mom really had a fit when she found out since our bathroom is in the same room as her treadmill, and for some reason she doesn't seem to like my smells when she jogs. Her loss. I'm the Treadmill Watch Guard of the house. It's my solemn and sworn duty to be present whenever the treadmill is in use. Sometimes I like to be held while she's going, and other times I just watch. Mom watches Buffy dvds in there, and I have to say that even though I didn't expect to like it (is anything as awesome as animal planet? Uh, NO.) it's growing on me. When the unit is not in use, it makes an awesome nap spot. Pretty much everything in my life is awesome.

I sleep, eat, and play as much as I want and I get my belly rubbed fairly regularly. I can crawl into Mom's lap when she's on the computer and I get to sleep in between my Dad's legs on a warm and comfy bed each night. I like to play night games and it's always fun to make Dad get up and close the curtains when I open them up (I also know how to open the shower door, and Mom thinks that's a hoot.)

They call me a tiny baby kitten, but of course that's not true. I'm grown now and not at all tiny. I get my macho out when I feel like it, especially when it comes to dealing with those puppies. They're bigger but I'm faster. Still, I don't mind being the baby sometimes because my big brother cleans my ears for me and my parents always let me go under the covers.

My life is awesome and so am I.

PS- Mom will be back soon!

red sky

Guest Blogger: Big Kitty

My life used to be so much better. Mom and Dad would go away during the day and I'd be free to sit in the sun and have a peaceful nap. Quietly. Without being bothered. Ever. My biggest worry (if I was going to worry, which I can't remember ever doing) was moving my beautiful furbody across the room to follow the midmorning sun.

Of course that all changed eighteen months ago when the beast entered our lives. Now I have someone who baps my tail when I'm sleeping on a chair and blocks the doorway to the bedroom at night. The little heathen is also a piglet. He eats up all of our food and I've been reduced to begging for more. Simply demeaning.

One great thing in my life is my mom. She knows how important my routine is to me. I follow her to the bathroom every morning and wait for her on the stairs while she takes the beasts (and I'm not even going to lower myself to talk about them) outside. She eventually comes back and I can rest easy until shower time. I always watch out for Mom, just in case something bad happens to her. I worry with all that water spraying all over the place. She also saves me my special places by her on the couch and in bed. She tells me that I'm her special boy, which is really sappy, but I deal with it because we've been pretty tight. And don't tell anyone, but I do kinda like it when she tells me how beautiful I am and wonderful I am in general.

Compliments will get you everywhere, my friends.

Compliments and gravy packets.

And my red ribbon.

Nobody better touch that. Ever.

It is so past my naptime.

October update

1. Cysts resolved. IUI stims followed by canceled IUI due to events outside of my or the doctors control and unrelated to my body resulted in a "natural" attempt that "naturally" failed. Giant cysts followed (dude, the nurse used the word "debris" to describe a mess around one ovary.)

2. Decision time: Lap/IUI/IVF.

3. Girl now has a "bonus" collar to control barking. She wears it only in the evening and only when she needs it. It sprays citronella in her nose if she barks and is supposed to then reduce the behavior. Now if you get the collar out she runs to take a rest in her crate. Not exactly what I wanted, but better than the barking.

4. I had NO trick or treaters on Halloween. This was very depressing for me. I live very close to three THREE schools, and I thought we'd get some, but I guess not. SO glad that P agreed to take the leftover candy to work!

sweet fuck, I'm going insane

Over the past week, Girl has really found her voice. She used to just bark or whine to go outside, and I thought that was great. It greatly reduced the amount of pee on my floor. On wednesday night she woke up at 1230 and began to bark. They've been sleeping through the night pretty much since 12 weeks, so we were surprised. P took her outside, but she didn't need to go. I took her outside because sometimes I can get her to go when he can't. I don't know if she was scared, cold, hot, bored, lonely, or just filled with the desire to inspire murderous rage among her humans.

I read up and decided to go with the ignore-the-behavior-and-she'll-stop approach. I've tried. It's damn hard to ignore when it's bouncing off the inside of your skull. I still take her outside when she needs to go, but other than that, I'm on ignore. I think my brain is vibrating right now.

Holymotherofcrap. It's driving me crazy. Can a person go insane from the barking? (I'm pretty sure I know what the problem is right now - I took away rawhides because they got too small and am not giving them back. Power struggle and I'm not giving up. Even for my hearing. I'm not.)

shut.the.fucking.barking.up.

how did we get here?

I don't make friends easily. I've moved a lot as a child and as an adult. I worked full time through college and didn't join anything so I graduated without any real friends. I've had work friends, and they were all "good friends" at the time, but those who have not dropped off are spread over several states. Sometimes I dropped the ball, sometimes they did, sometimes there was no reason at all.

M- I feel like our friendship ended because of money. I didn't mind helping you out, really. And if you had said that you couldn't pay me back, I'd rather have had the friend than the money (and at the time, we were both so poor. What was it? $70?) Maybe that wasn't it. Maybe with your new fiance, I didn't really fit in your life anymore. In any case, we went through a lot together with working with the closet dom Alice, taking turns coming in late to work and buying breakfast, catching your cheating exhusband on the internet, and making up fake lives and getting guys to buy us drinks and then beating them at pool. I don't know where you are now, but I wish I did.

E- I think I may have found where you work now. It's been several years, but you wouldn't mind if I emailed you, would you? What if in addition to asking you how you were and what you were up to I also asked you for a reference letter? Is it lame to google your old friends? Is it lame that I feel scared to call you up? I kind of think so, but...

J- I think our friendship was meant to end. I really needed someone then and you were like a big sister to me. I did feel sort of competitive and being around you made me feel like a prude in some ways. I think that some of the choices I made might not have happened if I hadn't been trying so hard to be someone I wasn't. Still, you were there for me when I needed you (especially on scary alcohol poisoning night. Thank you.) and I'll always remember that about you. You're a good person and if I run into you again (and I just might) I'd love to get lunch.

L- I thought you were so cool. You wore purple Adidas all-stars to work and I wanted some so bad. I got a white roxy sweatshirt and wore it to work even though it's brainless to wear an expensive white sweatshirt to work when you work with small children. We were at really different places in our personal lives, but we had fun while it lasted (OMG, I just remembered the fun we had with the crossdressers J's bachelorette party!) I wish you the best of luck in your new profession.

D- Girl, stop sending me email forwards and give me a call! I gave you my number, but I don't have yours, so it's up to you. And if you're not gonna call, stop saying you are. But I feel like I can't really say that since we've spoken so infrequently lately and with your miscarriage and your dog dying, I don't want to be bitchy about the little stuff. I hope you'reok, and I know we'll talk soon.

A- I didn't see this coming. After the way we bonded in misery I thought we'd be friends for much longer than we were. Clearly, I was mistaken. Did I always misread the situation? I knew you had other mom friends that you hung out with, but you always talked about them in such a surface-y way that I always had the impression that it was just about the kids. Would things have turned out differently if I had been able to get pregnant? Did you not want to hang out with us because we had no kids? Did you not want to leave your child with us because we don't have a child? That's kind of what it felt like there at the end. You can't imagine the pain that idea causes an infertile couple. I gave you so much of my time, energy, and emotion there when you were struggling in your marriage. I was there for you and so was P. We stood behind you and never judged you for your choices. I don't think you can say that about many other people who know what happened. My grandma thinks you made your choice and are too embarrassed to be my friend now that I know all about your dirty laundry. Maybe that's true. If it is, I think that's really sad. I thought we were better friends than that. I feel like you put me last over and over again and february was the last straw. You made plans and broke them and you either let your child run the show or you were using her as an excuse. I wish things didn't end up the way they did then, but they did. There had to be more reason than that one day for you to fall out of touch, but I wish you would have told me. I don't know how to fix what I don't know about. I don't know if I should try to fix what bothered me.

C, W, P- I don't have many friends. I'm very grateful for the ones I have. Putting up with me must be a huge challenge. I love you.

Ok, I didn't lose my ring

When P bought it, the ring included a warranty. The terms state that it must be checked biannually by them in order to get replacement value if there's ever a problem. Problem. I don't live in that state any longer. FedEx, etc. won't insure jewelery so if I send it to my mom to have it checked and it's lost, I'm SOL. But if I don't send it, the warranty isn't valid any longer.

That's what made me think about what I would do if my ring disappeared. I have discussed the issue further with the company, and they've agreed to honor the warranty if the ring is checked by another AGS jeweler and I have proof. So no big worries.

What would I have done?

Well, P and I went ring shopping together and he knew what I liked, so he did a good job picking. I get lots of compliments because he went for quality. I'd be upset because nothing can replace the original and I have a good proposal memory, but if I got to choose now, I'd probably get something a little different. I'd like a similar setting (platinum, baby!) but I'd probably upgrade the diamond size to a full ct. and possibly change shape.

(P, if you're reading, this does NOT mean that I'm unhappy with my ring! I love it and you and you already know that so don't be a craphead. Spphhbbml.)

sentimental or practical?

Mailing a diamond ring is complicated. No one will sell you insurance. I have a headache, so I'm not even going to go into why this has come up, but don't worry, it was boring anyway.

Say you did mailed or FedExed or UPSed your engagement/wedding ring. And say they lost it.

Would you:
a) replace it with something that looked exactly the same
b) something the same only bigger
c) choose something altogether different
d) not bother since nothing can replace the original

just curious.

I guess I'll go eat worms

The other night we were watching tv and I guess I drifted off to sleep. I woke up and thought I was having a perfectly reasonable conversation about the pope, but I guess I wasn't because I said to P, "Well, at least I know he won't pee on my floor." P thought I was crazy (duh) and I had this feeling like my brain was all mixed up. I totally thought I was awake, but then I got confused. It was kind of scary to feel like there was something wrong with my brain.

I haven't slept well in days. This morning I was dreaming.

#1 - I dreamed that we had Girl and Boy only to find homes for them. We had given Boy away and I freaked out because "It was a big mistake" and I had to convince P to get Boy back and not Give away Girl too.

Interesting, considering that it was pretty much all P who wanted puppies and I have been mostly-joking about giving them away from day one.

#2 - I dreamed that everyone hated me. Literally, everyone. Like, people were threatening to kill me (although some of the methods were suspect, as a guy was threatening me with a rusty nail and a band-aid that had epstein-barr on it.) I was awarded a medal that everyone thought I didn't deserve, and the whole football team was angry with me. I felt so awful. P just sat at a picnic table painting sauce on chicken to bbq, and no one defended me I can't even convey how terrible this all was.

When I woke up, I wanted my mommy. I still feel this heavy sadness. I started crying when P left for work because it felt like he hated me. I'm having trouble shaking the awful feeling.

technological liberation and seduction (I'm here to solve the BIG problems in life)

When my then-boyfriend got a cell phone ca. 1997, I thought it was the dumbest thing ever. I knew no one who had one except him. I remember mocking him mercilessly and asking why he would possibly need that (am considering emailing to apologize now.) Of course, eventually the revolution came and I got a phone too and I forgot all about my teasing over his need for a silly toy.

I went from carrier to carrier, hating on most of them, getting thoroughly screwed by one. When I moved away from CA, I realized that I hardly ever used my phone and was tired of shelling out the cash each month for the few minutes I actually used. P and I decided to cut costs an try out pay-as-you-go service. No more activation fees, no more big bills, no more roaming surprises, no more contracts. Decent service, even when traveling. Happy Twirl.

After a few years, we moved again, to NewCity. My phone was wearing out and not holding a charge, and I let the service lapse. P got a new phone for his job and instead of trying for a local number I let his service lapse too. I've been living cell-free pretty much since May.

LIBERATION!

It's been so great. When I'm out, I'm out. I can actually go somewhere and not tell anyone! And no one can ask me where I am, what I'm doing, or when I'll be home. Fantastic! (keep in mind that I have very few people to talk to anyway)

Lately though, I've been hearing the call of a new phone. P really wants me to get one because he likes to bother me when I go to the store. I started researching other carriers that offer prepaid service and it made my head spin a little. I eliminated a couple based on ridiculous rules or charges or crap networks. I'm left with two.

Why these two? Well, there's Tracfone, which I've used before and been completely satisfied with. And there's Cingular GoPhone, which offers me this:


I've been totally seduced by this tiny phone. It's cute and I want it. It's also kind of expensive and I'm a little cheap. Oh, and I HATE cingular.

UGH! What do I do? Am I crazy to hold a five-year grudge against a company? Should I give in and buy me a new toy? Should I continue to live my happy cell-free life?

Puppies: we live in Toys R Us

In the Twirl household, we go through lots of toys. Puppies are little destructo-units. They will chew and chew and chew until there's nothing left and then they will chew each other. I decided from the start to make sure there were always plenty of different acceptable chewing options available. They have soft toys, hard toys, rope toys, chew toys, and they love them all. They say you ought to rotate, but I don't really need to since they destroy things so often that there's always a new toy coming in to replace something.

Seven weeks: rope



Eight weeks: Girl with rope and fish, Boy with monkey and carrot. Carrot was the first toy that Boy selected himself by taking it off a low shelving unit at the "toy store."

Nine weeks: Girl with jack, Boy with unfortunately-placed carrot. Girl is not usually possessive over toys. She shares easily and is not territorial. This does not apply to the big jack. Boy may chew in tandem, but he may not take this toy away!



Ten weeks: Twirl messes with Boy and many toys, Boy and mini tennis ball. I do have to mess with them when they're sleeping. It's payback for them messing with me when they're awake.



Eleven weeks: Boy and rope, Girl and Boy and HIS giraffe. Boy does not share toys he's deemed "his." The giraffe is not for sharing. He gathers up toys to sleep with or hoard.



Twelve weeks: Girl with jack, Girl and Boy chewing a hard ball with three ropes that go through and have knots in the ends. The ropes have since been shredded, partially consumed, and thrown away.

I would sooo have that McBaby

Patrick Dempsey and his wife are having a second child.

If it's you, speak up!

P loaned out Lost (season one) to someone at some time. He does not recall who or when and therefore can't ask for the discs back. His wife was not at all pleased about this and is holding a (silent) grudge.

when all the stars were falling,

i reached up like you said.
all the stars were falling, one hit me in the head,
and i fell down, down, down.
i fell down, down.

***

I'm keeping my record intact. Another medicated cycle, another follow-up cycle on the bench because of cysts. More cysts than mature follicles. Larger too. The printouts of the cysts made a nice long chain. She said, "well, it does look like your body responds well to gonal-f." I said that it didn't feel "well." She was really nice to me though. She did made me cry when she was poking around in there, but that's to be expected. Fucking cysts.

The nurse thought it was kinda sad that I was expecting cysts. She said I sounded resigned, which I'm sure I did. With how bloated I was and how much discomfort I've had, I'm not surprised that I still had shit growing in there. I do wish they wouldn't tell me that as a part of my bloodwork they're going to do a beta. I know what they're doing, I know why, but it's still depressing.

Goodbye perfect lining, hello cysts?

I've recovered from my little emotional outburst yesterday and fortunately I no longer feel like crying. In addition to the pain of failure, I blame the hormone shift.

Now I'm ready to enter the three-day-wait. I'm up for the title of most medicated cycles followed by a rest cycle due to cysts. Do you think the Academy will pick me? I've never not been benched following a med cycle, so I expect that will be the case this time too. Especially given how "well" I respond to the drugs.

***

here's a bonus tidbit:

I just got a call from the pharmacy.

"You have a prescription waiting for you."

"I shouldn't have any."

"Your... gawn-al.... F"

"No, I already picked that up."


How the fuck did the pharmacy already know this was a failure?!"

Perfect failure

Sometimes life just sucks. And it's not life exactly, it's just my life. Or my non-life. I'm sitting here, in pain, waiting for the backaches and cramping to give birth to the bloody end of this failed cycle. This, my 48th cycle, was another perfect failure.

I know iuis aren't fabulous as far as success rates go, but I don't really have a choice right now. We made the best decision we could and it's in the hands of a doctor who wants us to fail on his protocol a few times before we can move on. I wanted a lap. Don't tell me to be the boss because it does not always work. Sometimes you just get labeled a problem patient and you end up in limbo for over a year. Sometimes you have to suck it up and work it from within the system. I'm trying anyway. I don't really want advice. I don't need help. Not with this anyway. As much as I'm not liking the way things are going, it was still the right decision.

What I need is to succeed at something. I'm tired of feeling like a failure. I'm tired of shooting up, bloating up, and the second I can wear my non-stretch jeans again, the backaches start and we can relive the process all over again. This afternoon I did a shot of vodka because I could feel the ache coming on. P looked at me like I was nuts. I was crazy; it should have been tequila. Better than tylenol. Waiting sucks. The inevitable sucks too, but the waiting for it, especially when there's pain, is just emotional misery.

We went to B&N and walked around. I felt like a zombie. I love books, but the store was driving me mad. I saw strollers and I heard children laughing and talking and crying and I felt like there was a whole other world there that I'm just allowed to look at but not be a part of. I walked past the pregnancy section without slowing, but I knew it was there. I know there are books about fertility and endometriosis and pcos in the health section, but I didn't want to look. What can a book tell me? Nothing. A book doesn't know why this is so hard. Every section I walked by made my heart hurt a little. My glazed-over eyes welled up with tears, but my zombie-self didn't let them out. I wandered around though the history and biography sections where I can usually get lost, but I didn't really stop. When I realized that I'd been staring at a table of boxed calendars, I found P and told him that I wanted ice cream. "Now?" "Yes, NOW." "Are you sure you don't want a chocolate cupcake?" "No, ice cream." "Ok," he said, seeing I can only imagine what on my face, "let's go." And we did.

Did it help? I don't know. I'm sitting here writing this wondering how I got here. How did things turn out this way for me, for us? How did I become this person? I don't believe in fate, karma, or divine intervention for things like this. It's just happening and there is no reason. But it's still happening and not being able to explain it in a five paragraph essay is very frustrating. I didn't want puppies. I wanted babies. I never wanted to be a doctor, lawyer or indian chief. I didn't want to be a butcher, baker, or candlestick maker either (and I'm not drunk, by the way.) All I ever really wanted was to be a wife and mother. I feel like I'm failing at the one and the other is so unimaginable by now I can't even get there in my mind anymore.

How cool is this chick?

Her fiance cheated on her so she broke up with him, called off the wedding, and used the reception site to have a charity event instead!

makin' the watch list

P: Have a good day with the little terrors.

Twirl: the first time I read that sentence I saw "terrorists"

P: No, not terrorists. They're combination wrecking balls, lawnmowers,
weed-wackers and other things though.

she meant well, of course, but...

We try to take the puppies out often so they can meet as many different people as possible while they're still young. Aside from the pet store (or toy store, as we call it) we like to go eat lunch out where we can sit at an outside table. People pass by and they get petted and fawned over. They love it.

A woman approached me saying that she was in town on business and she missed her dog and could she pet mine. I always say yes, and so we chatted as she got her puppy fix. She seemed like a nice lady and she gushed over my puppies and kept them entertained, so I liked her just fine. Then she had to kill it.

Her: These guys are just like little babies.

Me: Yeah, they do require quite a bit of attention and work.

Her: It's good you have them. I think everyone should have to take care of a puppy before they have babies. They're such good preparation for the real thing.

Me: (Take a big bite of sandwich to muffle any possible words.)

(cycle #48) and also, I don't speak the name of The Scottish Play

This cycle my husband said something that bugged me. He said he didn't have a lot of confidence that it would work. I mulled this over a bit and came to the following conclusions:

1. Only I am allowed to be pessimistic. I never think it's going to work. He's always been the optimist and I dislike being forced into that role.

2. After asking him why he said that, he said, "maybe I'd feel differently if we were doing ivf." I think the failures are finally getting to him. We've been back and forth about ever doing ivf so many times. Has he changed his mind again? Have I?

***

I have had, again, a fairly perfect cycle. Good response to meds, appropriate number of mature follicles, good lining. Once again, I saw myself ovulating on the screen just prior to the iui. P had a good report, and when the nurse gave him the post wash numbers and a positive "grade" he responded, "of course." Once again, no good reason except chance and statistics for us to be unsuccessful. Of course, if there was nothing at all wrong with us, we would not be on cycle #48 with no pregnancies (let alone babies! babies? ha!)

This iui sucked a little. It hurt. It doesn't usually hurt. The nurse said my ovaries were much larger and that they were making my cervix difficult to reach. Then, later, the cramping set in. My goodness, the cramping. I felt sick, had no appetite (and eating was required so that I could take my antibiotics) and had pain/discomfort/bloating all day long. I turned over on my side once and it was torture. As was the moment where my cat jumped up on my belly for a cuddle (we did compromise, and he had a nice nap on my legs.) So far, I feel much better today.

***

I began this post a couple days ago. I didn't want to jinx myself by putting it up because the iui hadn't actually happened yet. We all have our little superstitions, don't we? Once, I began a cycle with unpolished toes and refused to re-do them until I knew it was a failure. Because you know, nail polish consistency can really make or break a cycle.