Monday, November 26, 2007


I just realized that, in my blechness of being ill, I forgot to update on the Thrombophilia Panel Saga of a few weeks ago.

In our last installment, I was on the phone with my IVF Coordinator, trying to get the results of the bloodwork that I had done on October 16th (which, incidentally, was my grandmother's ironic....). I was told by the Coordinator (who I've monikered "The Great Deceiver"-you'll see why in a second) to call back that Friday, 11/2, and the results should be in.

So I called. To find out that The Great Deceiver was out of the office that day. And I didn't leave a message, figuring that I'd call back on Monday morning. Which I did-only to find out that her voicemail hadn't changed from Friday, and I left a message. I never heard from her, so I called back on Tuesday and got the SAME VOICEMAIL MESSAGE (because you never get her "live" during business hours) saying she was out on "Friday". Assuming that she was still out (sick?), I called Dr. Pipsqueak's admin and left a message detailing the whole mess. She called me back that afternoon around 4:45 letting me know that TGD was actually in the office, and that she had already let her know that I had called, and that she was going to personally walk down to her desk to remind her to call me. She sounded peeved, and I assumed that it was because I was calling her instead of TGD. I felt badly for about a total of a minute, but figured that it was worth it to get a call back.

Which of course, I didn't. And then, the shit hit the fan the next day.

I called the admin back on Wednesday and left a pissy message that I have yet to hear from anyone about the bloodwork I had FOUR WEEKS previously, did I need to make an appointment to go over results or would I get results over the phone, blah blah blah. I also left a terse email to TGD saying the same thing. Which FINALLY got a response from TGD in the form of a snotty phone call saying, "Well.....I THINK I have all the results, and I'll forward them on to the doctor who will call you, as I DON'T GIVE OUT TEST RESULTS". To which my reply was, "Well, perhaps if you TOLD ME THAT to begin with, I wouldn't be calling you constantly-but, then again, perhaps if you also RESPONDED TO MY MESSAGES you'd know that". And hung up on her. Bitch.

Admin called me back the next afternoon, and firmly told me that "TGD spoke to you and told you that Dr. Pipsqueak would be calling you with the results". I relayed that I had already spoken to her and gave her the play-by-play of the conversation, told her that it was the first time I had heard from her since the end of October, and that I wouldn't even be bothering her if I didn't think that TGD was still out of the office. There was a silence on the phone, then I was asked, "You mean, she didn't even call you back when you called the first time? I walked down to her desk last week and told her personally that she needed to call you back." Well, nope, she sure as hell didn't.

The upshot of the conversation was that, apparently, The Great Deceiver does this "a lot" and admin has heard this story before from other patients. She gave me TGD's manager's name and let me know that I needed to make a complaint to her so she knew what was going on. Which I did, because I don't let people fuck with me. EVER.

And, the results, you ask? Well.........I still don't know yet. Nurse Blondie called and left a message on Monday that she wanted to go over the results, it "wasn't urgent" but they needed a test repeated, and the doctor wanted to know if I was taking any medications or herbs that would affect the test results, which I'm not-I made sure that I was taking absolutely nothing for about four days before the blood was drawn. One of the tests, the Lupus Anticoagulant Panel, came back with high levels, so I had to have a regular PT/PTT done. I had the blood drawn Friday, and hopefully they'll get the results today or tomorrow and I'll hear sometime this week from the doctor. Nurse Blondie sent me the funky results along with the labslip, and it was interesting seeing the results on paper. Although....I'm not sure why the hell it would be a high clotting time-shouldn't it be lower if you have a thrombophilia disorder? Perhaps it's what the use in the culture medium that's different than a normal PT/PTT. If any of you out there have any clue as to what the hell it means, please let me know, since I'm a bit ignorant about this.....

Either way, I get the sneaking suspicion that they've found something (since Nurse Blondie stressed that she wasn't the one to be able to tell me the results, and that the doctor would be the best one to talk to), and they're just confirming the obvious.

So.....that's where we're at. I'll update when I get more information......

Saturday, November 24, 2007


So.....should I be insulted, worried, or excited about this?

You Are The Fool

You are a fascinating person who is way beyond the concerns of this world.
Young at heart, you are blissfully unaware of any dangers ahead.
You are a true wanderer - it has be difficult finding your place in this world.
Full of confidence, you are likely to take a leap of faith.

Your fortune:

You are about to embark on a new phase in your life.
This may mean changing locations, jobs, friends, or love status.
You are open about what the future will bring, and free of worry.
You have made your peace with fate, and you're ready to start down your new path.

Anywhoo......Turkey Day went well-too much food, and lots of family around. We went yesterday to my parents and stayed overnight. I haven't been feeling well the past few days-nauseated, headache, just blechy feeling, and there's some stomach virus going 'round (I actually was "in vomitus flagrante" this afternoon), but otherwise, it's better than being at work, right?

At least, that's how I'm trying to justify it. Oh, well.

Hope all of my colonialist friends had a great Thanksgiving, and for my European friends, hope the weekend is going well.....

Monday, November 05, 2007

Personal Purgatory

It's been really difficult for me to blog lately. Not because I hate people, or that I don't care about anyone else out there. But, it's getting hard to really express myself. Call it writer's block, perhaps; but for me there are so many emotions and monologues running around in my head that I'm afraid to let out, so as not to seem bitter, angry and.....well.........insane, really.

But it's also getting hard to keep all of this inside. Sooner or later it's going to explode, like a volcano. And, like a volcano, it will be impossible to clean up.

Since turning 35 about three weeks or so ago, the thought that perhaps this won't work out for me has been eating away at my psyche. There's been the various pregnancy announcements (two in the last month alone) and, although I am happy for those people, the bitterness that I feel rises up like bile in my throat and chokes back those good wishes. And then, I feel so guilty, because I can't understand why I just can't be happy for someone's good news without first thinking of my own pain. I feel so selfish and self-absorbed-like I can't be the better person. And then I feel even worse.

Some days I wake up and I'm okay-I don't think of my infertility every five minutes. Other days I wake up and go through the day waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I feel as if I have my guard up constantly so as to not feel the pain. Oftentimes, I wake up feeling numb, as if I'm just going through the motions. As if its one more day in the life sentence that is infertility, and that it ain't going to change anytime soon-sort of like an axe murderer on a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Except that axe murderer more than likely has children who'll visit once a month.

Our friends and family have stopped asking us about it, and, while it is a relief in some ways not to feel that pressure, I'm not sure that people not asking us is any better. Perhaps they're afraid to bring it up because they don't want to hear it, or hear more crappy news. Or, perhaps they've given up on us ever having children at all.

I think it hit home the most when I redid my blog template and went through my blogroll. Out of the people that I originally started this journey with, I am the last person left without children. In fact, the majority of the people there have their babies or are pregnant. And, that hurts like hell. I get so angry, not at the people who've moved on, mind you, but at God that he's left me alone. I've more than paid my dues. I've gone through hell with treatments and procedures, prayed, visited shrines, had the Evil Eye removed, bought energy beads, and all for nothing. And if one more person tells me to "think positive" and read that horrible Sec.ret book I'll rip their eyes out with a spork. Seriously. Why put me through all of this? Why show me everyone else who can have children, and leave me standing on my own? What's the point of that? What do I need to learn from this that I haven't already been taught, the hard way?

I feel that life is moving forward, and yet I'm being left behind. I don't feel as if I'm alive, just living day to day in a perpetual state of waiting, much like the souls in Purgatory that are waiting for redemption and acceptance into Heaven. All I know is that I'm 35 years old and the mother of none, and as that number creeps forward the possibility of motherhood gets slimmer. What do I have to show for it? A box of unused syringes, unused meds on the top shelf of our fridge, some alcohol swabs, and a lot of insurance receipts. That's all. No children's laughter in our home. Just an empty room in our house painted yellow and white in expectation of things that may never come to fruition. A room with a door that's now kept closed so we're not reminded of it's presence. So we don't hear it mocking us for painting it those colors to begin with, and for being so naive and optimistic when we should have been on our guard.

I really feel as if I'm drowning. What happened to the person I was before? Did that person really exist to begin with? How do I define myself if I can't be a mother? I don't know who I am anymore. And that scares the shit out of me.

See, I told you I'm going off the deep end.