The Doc and The Dude

Yesterday's appointment was never going to give me the go ahead for IVF and all the answers I needed.

I knew this in May when I received a date for a test that post dated the "go through all the results and give you your protocol" appointment. Time-travel not being within the skillset of the NHS.

Yesterday the doctor went through all the results so far, and used words like “outstanding”, “exceptional” and "Ok ... fine". (The former results were for tests relating to my ovaries the latter for the husband's spunk). In fact every test came back good – quite frankly if it wasn’t for the lack of pregnancies I wouldn’t deserve the moniker ‘infertile’.

My egg reserves are so healthy that, when I start IVF, he is going to do as little egg production stimulation as possible as there is a danger of Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. So it is good news, but also a little scary.

There is also a slight issue that my ovaries have not been particularly cooperative of late. I haven't had a period for 50 days.

"Have you taken a pregnancy test?" He asked, all wide eyed and innocent.

"Yes...

“ A couple...

“Well, three ...

“No. Four. All negative." (But that is another post)

So I am back on the Provera for five days, which timing wise works quite nicely, hopefully I'll get to expunge whatever is lurking in my uterus in time for a nice clear view up there when I have the hysteroscopy.

The problem is what happens next.

"Ideally", he told me, "we'd get you straight back in after the hysteroscopy in July, and assuming there is nothing to worry about we'd put you on birth control for a month to completely suppress your ovaries and then two weeks of very low stimulation followed by IVF.”

You know it is never going to end well when they start a sentence with the word ‘ideally’.

"The trouble is," he confided "we can't always give you the appointment date we'd like..."

No shit.

".. and I know from when I tried to book someone else in today that there isn’t an available appointment now until September."

Sigh.

So we ummed and ahhh. He could, he said, give us the drugs now and we could just call the lab for our hysteroscopy results and if I had the all clear from the Hyperplasia just go ahead with the protocol. But this would be easier if my cycles were regular because then we'd know when I was going to start my period again.

He paused.

We waited.

Had we been waiting long for this appointment? he pondered out loud.

“Yes,” I managed to say without weeping. I tried to keep the hysteria from my voice as I casually mentioned that I was given the go ahead for IVF back in January and the only reason I had waited more than the length of time it takes to get a blood test result was the delay in getting appointments for this and the hysteroscopy.

But then a thought occurred to me. If we wait until the hysteroscopy result, and it is all good then no problem, then we could go ahead with the suppression without the need for another appointment. If, however, there is a issue I wouldn’t know until mid-July and I’d have to try and book another appointment at that point, which at the rate appointments are filling up would likely take my until November. However, if we book now for an appointment in September then we use that either to start IVF or address any problems that arose as part of the hysteroscopy. (Are you keeping up?)

The husband, who was clearly petrified at the idea of being given a bag of drugs today and a few different scenarios to remember, pointed out that it was just a few more weeks, and in the scheme of things that wasn’t so much of a delay.

Ok, I conceded, as long as it is just until September.

And that, you'd think, is where the story ends.

Fools.

I took my slip requesting the next earliest appointment (in September) to the dude at reception. And I use the word dude advisedly for it was him, innit-man. He took my slip, rolled his eyes, “Oh For Fucks Sake” he mouthed at the universe and, “I’ll be right back “ he yelled at me as he scooted off to the Doctors office.

The Doc and the dude came back to reception. Turns out the next earliest appointment is now in October.

The doctor wringed his hands and lowered his voice, with a cautious glance at the other people in the waiting room he growled through the side of his mouth. “Look I can’t give you a proper appointment but call up a week after your hysteroscopy, when we’ll have the results, and I’ll slot you in during my clinic. It won’t be a full appointment. I can’t spend long with you. But hopefully we can start you off on the IVF then.”

Reader, it took all my self-control not to fall to the floor and kiss his feet.

He left me with the dude. “It’s cool, I’ll put a note in the diary and look ... It is a secret. But...” and he spelled out the doctors email address! This is the first time I have ever been given such precious information. I see deliverance from the endless phoning.

The dude rocks.

And the doctor rocks.

And the NHS, well, its still an administrative nightmare but at least the people it employs try to work round the system not jobs-worthily within it.