Tuesday, 30 September 2008

Absolute fucker

I don't know where to start.

I got a call from my Doc this afternoon with the results from the hysteroscopy. I was surprised, I'd been expecting these at my appointment in October.

It wasn't good.

She said that there was some abnormality with the cells "not cancerous" but I had to take provera for the next three months to thicken my womb lining and then I'd have another hysteroscopy to take it out and then, and only then, could I start trying to conceive.

When could I come in to get the prescription? I said I'd come in that afternoon, luckily I have the type of job (and boss) that if I say I have to take the rest of the afternoon off I can.

Then it went tits up.

I've just deleted a couple of thousand words about me waiting and going backwards and forwards trying to find the prescription and work out what it meant, you don't need all that shit and I'm not in the mood to make it funny. But it culminated in me sitting in the doctors office.

I told her how upset I'd been when I discovered through a letter that I was due for Intrauterine Insemination. She was stunned "but we always do IUI with super-ovulation! You got the leaflet" No, I didn't.

I burst into tears (this is becoming a habit).

She asked me if I had anyone I could talk to. I didn't think the blogging sista-(and one brotha) hood counted. She asked if I talked to my mother.

My mother died when I was fifteen.

I took a while choking out those words to the doctor.

I left with her booking me in to see a councillor and a specialist in familial cancers.

I don't want to go to the specialist. From what she was saying the specialist will ascertain what my genetic predisposition to breast cancer is. I really don't want to know.

For my friends 'in the real world' who are reading this: Sorry I couldn't tell you in person but I've just been on the phone to my womb-mate and I can't really talk at the moment, I'm still pretty weepy and struggling with full sentences.

For fellow bloggers one question remains: With three months enforced not trying to conceive what the hell am I going to write about between now and Christmas?


  1. you're just going to write. I'll miss you to much if you just disappear!

    I'm so sorry to hear about the results.

  2. "Absolute fucker" is absolutely right. I am so very very sorry. This is all so frustrating and miserable for you, I'm surprised you only burst into tears and didn't throw anything.

    I'll be thinking of you and hoping the provera treatment sorts your lining out beautifully.

    Internetty hugs.

    Also, bloody NHS. Why can't they get it together to TELL people stuff properly and keep proper records on their patients? Which would avoid so much frustration and confusion and upset. Why why why? Argh.

  3. I'm sorry - I guess it isn't the answer you were hoping for ...
    Words seem so inadequate right now ... so do cyber ((hugs)).
    I would have bawled too.It is a natural reaction .
    Somedays it isn't worth getting out of bed but remember the cybersisterhood is here for you while you wait it out.
    I'll be thinking of you too and keeping my fingers /legs and eyes crossed the provera treatment sorts your lining out beautifully.

  4. [insert touching yet appropriately uplifting comment here]

    I am just sorry. So sorry for all this, the forward and backward.

    I hope you can get it all off your chest with hubby, I know we struggle to talk about any of the crap this soon after it happens, it takes a while, which isn't often what you need.

    Doesn't matter what you write about, I'll sit here reading it and being snide.

    Take care, please.

  5. fuck that suxs. Sorry girl. It wont help right this second but hopefully you will see the only upside of forced breaks is you can go back to being 'normal' for a while.I mean like before ttc. You know, drink, eat, do whatever you want forgetting about if it fits with your cycles. i think in fact doing all that shit actually saved my sanity. Good luck.

    Paint it Black (blog)

  6. Thanks Sarah, and don't worry you can't get rid of me that easily.

    Nuts, I'm struggling with the whole NHS question myself.

    Trish, words are always good, lets me know I'm not alone.

    X, [received] Yes, the husband is great and is always delighted to help me get things off my chest! (Still got it!)

    Paint it black, (I thought your name was an instruction before). I fully intend to do a nauseating Pollyanna type post soon about why a break is good. Just need to get my head around it.

  7. I'm so, so sorry.

    I too lost my mother during my teenage years, so can understand a little of what you write here.

    I'm going to email you to see if you want to talk about this some more off-blog.

  8. oh gosh... I am so so sorry. There really is no good way to sugarcoat bad medical results is there? I'll be thinking of you, I hope things are a little brighter this morning.

  9. Darling, you will write about you. You will not leave us!!!!! I am so sorry you are going on a break before you even get started, just remember all this shit is worth it in the end. And besides, you don't want to be in the middle of treatment and stuff start popping up and wonder why they didn't look for that in the beginning.

  10. Whatever you want. We'll still be here. I'm sorry about the shitty results and the even shittier wait etc.

  11. What a load of shit - I can't believe it. It is so fucking difficult to receive shit news when you are sick to death of all this anyway.

    I really hope you get some good news soon.

  12. Oh honey, I'm so sorry to read this post. Bugger, bugger, bugger.

    I really don't know what else to say. I wish I knew you in the real world and could give you a shoulder to cry on.

    Please don't stop writing, we would all miss you so much.

  13. Ms H, Thanks for your email appreciated it.

    lovecomesfirst, Its taken two mornings but things are a bit brighter now, thanks.

    Decade, Yes it is better they found it now, i wish they had found it 9 months ago but at least things are still moving.

    Battynurse, yeah its shit but thanks.

    Secret D, I am sick of it but no more than the rest of you. thanks.

    Jane G, Cheers (been crying on my big sis's shoulder and trust me you don't want all that snot!). Now please don't get the wrong idea, I don't know what to write about but since when has that stopped me? I'll still be here filling the blog with nonsense.

  14. Everyone has appeared to already have covered all the uplifting comments. Please know that I am sorry that you are having to go through this.

    As a fellow blogger, not currently or forever in the future trying to conceive, I promise you will find things to blog about. We are here for you!

  15. Elfie, Ta

    Deborah, I feel a bit ashamed, I know I'm not going through half as much shit as you so thanks for being sympathetic rather than telling me not to be so pathetic.


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