Thursday, 29 March 2012

Where Are We At Then?

 I felt a bit of a tit yesterday. By which I mean ‘I felt like an idiot’ rather than ‘I squeezed my own boob absentmindedly’.

After finding out on Tuesday that my womb lining was not growing I became convinced that the wand-waving clinician who merrily prescribed me oestrogen patches hadn’t paid any attention to my hysterolgy (that word will be in every blog post from now on) and was giving me a standard prescription.

Me? Standard? Don’t they know who I am?

Clearly not.

So I...

*oh this is embarrassing*

... I wrote a letter to my booblicious Doctor – the one woman in this whole process who actually seemed to have read my notes before our appointment. I asked her to check out what I’d been prescribed and give me her take on whether this cycle was worth pursuing or a lost cause.

I dropped the letter off on Wednesday morning and on Wednesday afternoon she rang me.

Why so embarrassing I hear you cry? Your letter did the trick.

You’d think, wouldn’t you?

Only she hadn’t seen my letter and was following everything behind the scenes anyway. Turns out I didn’t give my clinic much in the way of credit. Credit cards, yes, but not credit where it is due.

She thinks this round of IVF is still worth pursuing, taking into account what tomorrows scan shows, but certainly hasn’t given up hope. The other reason she rang was she had the result of the biopsy I’d had a couple of weeks ago. I wasn’t really worried about this, at the time the Doctor said everything looked nice and normal and sending the bloody scrapings off to be analysed seemed to be a formality rather than anything else.

See, what I did there? I let my guard down.

The results aren’t anywhere as catastrophic as previously. I don’t have the complex precancerous cells they first discovered. But it isn’t completely normal either. I still have a bit of endometrial hyperplasia kicking around. She doesn’t think it is prohibitive to implantation, and actually a pregnancy is the best possible cure as it blasts the lining with hormones for nine months and then sheds everything in a nice big placentery bucket of gunk.

But it also means if this round doesn’t work then yet more attention is going to have to be paid to my womb.

Gosh finding out whether I am even going to get to have this frozen embryo transfer is almost as exciting as watching paint dry, innit?


  1. Well, there you go. This just needs to work to solve a variety of problems. I'm going with that.

  2. naw I don't think you were a boob at all and so glad you finally have a dr that is all over the situation and on top of things!

  3. Did you explain to her that she should expect a letter from you?

  4. You know she never would've called if you hadn't sent the letter, right?! Murphy's law... I know it (unfortunately too) well

  5. Hysterology - you should have a degree in this by now... Seriously though - Liz's womb lining, you need to get a grip and cut this lady some slack....

    Fingers crossed for today's scan.

  6. Except maybe she HAD seen the letter and it had prompted her to get off her butt.

    Good luck for today. xx

  7. I'm impressed you sent the letter! I'd have wanted to and then chickened out. Glad she was on top of it regardless. Good luck

  8. Don't think you were a tit at all for following up - too much is riding on this!! I hope hope HOPE all goes well and you can move forward with this cycle....

  9. Lots and lots of luck for today's scan x

  10. Oh dear. Never simple, is it? (Understatement?)

    It's good your clinic are on it. Let's leave it at at that, and not worry about feeling like a mammary gland here. You're fine. You were just being proactive, that's all.

    Crossing fingers and thinking productive thoughts for you. xxx

  11. Good luck with today's scan.


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