Thursday, May 01, 2008

revisting the old fertility deal

I was at the reproductive unit today, planning my next IVF cycle because dudes, a face swollen out to here *gestures widely* needs to be Out There, In Public, and On Show.

Not really, but fuck. Appointments are booked WAY ahead so no way in HELL was I going to wait another EON just because I've only just staggered out of the operating theatre.

Karen the uber bitch was working today too, which a) joy and b) get this - I was apologised to for not being warned. Which was very nice, especially as I don't give a rat's ass about that idiot anymore.

I really don't. We could be at the same party together and she is SO nothing to me that I wouldn't even notice if she was standing behind me making bunny ears over my head.

BUT ANYWAY, the appointment. It went like this:

We're going to do an entirely different regime this time, a "short" or "flare" cycle, the one they use as a last ditch effort for little old ladies, because I failed so miserably at the standard long cycle last time. This protocol gives lower conception rates, but as there's no down regulating, it places less stress on the body (and the fragile, hormone fueled psyche), and as the treatment time is considerably shorter, you can do more cycles within the year. Pushing, I expect, the conception rate up to an acceptable level on a PER YEAR basis, even when not comparable with the per cycle conception rates of the long stimulation regime.

Don't quote me on that because I'm pretty sure that last paragraph is based more on my assumptions than it is on actual fact.

What fucked with all this good newsy joy was the frikkin' Sophie's Choice type situation I was subjected to this morning. Y'all, I was asked if I wanted to start this month. As in, tomorrow, in preparation for an egg retrieval in as little as ten days, and of course I WANTED to do it, especially since booking on today meant that I had a confirmed booking for the retrieval in the appropriate week, and I KNOW I've got three follicles on each ovary AS I TYPE THIS that, technically speaking, could all mature under this regime.

Six wouldn't, obviously, but the possibility is there bla bla BLA.

Point being, it could all go to shit in the next month and there might be NO follicles getting their groove on. On the other hand, there could be a whole fuckload of them in there the next time round because fertility, especially that of an old fart like me, is a crap shoot, every time.

BUT! I've just had surgery so really, I'm not running optimally at present so, theoretically at least, I might not respond as well to the drugs as I would if I were NOT sporting the 4x2 Meets Face look. BUT! By next month, when I call to say "game ON!", they unit might just say, "How nice for you. Thing is, we're fully booked. Call back in a month." because there are only a finite number of egg retrievals booked each week, and the women on the long stimulation regimes book on an entire MONTH before we old dears do. Which might only mean another month, but then there's the whole revisiting of the "but what if I have no follicles" that time round, when I've got six juicy ones on the boil right now.



My doctor thought it would be fine to go ahead, the treating nurse said it would be fine to go ahead, but that if it were her, she'd wait, and I was all "aw crap, can I just buy the damn vowel?".

I SO wanted to go ahead with this but there was this annoying voice in my head asking me, "ARE YOU NUTS??!".

If I'd listened to the aibee that didn't give a shit, bring on the tequila, this would be another entry entirely and you'd all be wondering if I actually was nuts, but I listened to alternate aibee and as a consequence, have now begun the count down to my next period.

If it behaves and arrives when it should, I'll be starting my next IVF cycle at the end of May. If it doesn't, I may just throw myself off a cliff because seriously, is it just me or does every day of my life seem to be stamped with the word "URGENT"?

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