Monthly Archives: March 2010

Murse Brookbank

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Lupron injection #1 is complete.

And despite my being a complete nervous nelly, the whole procedure went off without a hitch and John handled the shot giving like an old junkie.

One down, thirteen to go.

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We’re off to see the Wizard

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Today was the HSG – our final step before we can start the real meat and potatoes part of the IVF cycle.

For weeks now I have been dreading this appointment. I have heard horror story after horror story and have been bracing myself for pain the likes of which I have never experienced before.

We show up at the radiology office at 8:00am sharp because the HSG Nazi lady that scheduled the appointment was very insistent that we HAD to be prompt. So prompt we were. After filling out the usual paperwork and paying for the test we had a seat in the waiting room and began twiddling our thumbs. As also instructed by above mentioned Nazi, I took my Motrin and Valium at 7:00am – exactly one hour prior to my appointment so I would feel as little pain as possible. So there we sat waiting…….and waiting……..and waiting. Finally at 9:00am the man-child decided to go up to the front desk to start storming the gates. The “scheduler” lady informed us that an error had been made and the tech and doctor were NOT there. She then suggested that we could come back at 2:30pm. Not really possible as John had to go back to work and I needed a driver since I was hopped up on happy pills.

Finally after quite a bit of apologizing for their incompetence the HSG Nazi lady said that the tech and doctor were on their way and that they would be able to fit us in in half an hour.


However, at this point my happy pills were starting to wear off and I had no reinforcements! The horrible HSG Nazi lady said we were pretty much up Sh!ts Creek and I would just have to tough it out or reschedule. There was NO WAY that I was going to reschedule this. So I asked John to fetch me a large shot of whiskey and the biggest biting stick he could find on short notice. We were going to kick this old school.

30 minutes later I found myself in an ass less robe with my legs up in some sort of weirdo knee stirrup things (this is fun and new) while staring at the ceiling. The sweet little radiologist-side-kick lady asks me if I’m nervous. I just smile and say no and then resume hyperventilating as quietly as possible.

The doctor finally gets in the room and immediately gets right down to “business”. She’s one of these chatty types that likes to narrate her every move. I’m sure she finds it less surprising for patients, however, I prefer to operate on a strict “need to know only” basis. So as she continues to narrate while navigating God only knows what through my goods she says the dreaded words of ALL doctors, “you might feel some discomfort now”. At this point I start muttering some sort of prayer and brace myself for the excruciating pain.

But…… doesn’t come.

She then mutters something about inserting the dye and that some patients complain of discomfort from this. I again start praying to my maker and bracing for THE excruciating pain.

But………it doesn’t come.

What. The. Hell.

Dr. Narration then whips the monitor around to show me two very “beautiful” and OPEN fallopian tubes spilling hazardous radioactive waste into my stomach cavity.


She then went on to compliment me on my nice pelvis (that’s a first) and my belly button ring. 🙂

So……………………..long story short. This HSG business was easy peesy mac and cheesy and literally took 5 minutes from start to finish. Why was it pain free you ask?????? Maybe it was because I decided to wear my lucky socks this morning.

I don’t know. Whatever the reasons, I’ll take it!

And to prove it, here’s a photo of me minutes after the procedure giving the classic sign for “it’s all good in the hood”. Would this face lie?

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Tomorrow we start Lupron!

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No Raisins for my Power Animal!

This morning I rolled out of bed at the unholy hour of 6am to beat the LA traffic to my first appointment at our RE’s (Reproductive Endocrinologist) office. One Starbucks coffee, 16,000 cars in LA traffic and an hour and a half later I was sweetly sitting in the front lobby waiting to be called.

Why am I here you might ask?

Oh, well I’m here for a pretty disgusting appointment actually. And because I’m a lady I will spare you the details of WHY it’s a disgusting appointment and just jump right to “they’re checking my follicles to get a baseline of what my ovaries are producing.” Basically they want to know if my ovaries (on their own) are producing little healthy grapes or dry shriveled little raisins.

I was a little bit of a nervous pervous going into this appointment because I’ve been harboring this secret fear that we might find out that I TOO would somehow (in a cruel twist of fate) be infertile. A severely tipped uterus perhaps, or maybe a bum ovary or just maybe the dreaded……..endometriosis.

The fantastic/amazing/good/jumping for joy news is that I have a “textbook” reproductive system. Thank you genetics!

My uterus looked like, well, a uterus. And my little ovaries showed 12 follicles on the left and 16 on the right. The sweet little ultrasound lady said anything above 10 was considered excellent. I’ve always been an obsessive over achiever. Ovaries 28 – Infertility 0.

So now that THAT is out of the way we now move onto the HSG. I’ve scheduled this for next Tuesday and have already convinced myself that I. WILL. NOT. PANIC. I will forget all the horror stories I have heard and pretend that I’m in my happy place with Edward Norton and my power animal.

Incidentally, my power animal is a Sasquatch.

Wish me luck and be sure to tell me how easy an HSG is!

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How Do You Spell Cha-Ching?

As we have previously mentioned, our insurance company (herewith referred to as The Big Prick Corporation) does not cover infertility cycles. Now, seeing as how a 2010 model for a brand new baby is running right around 16K (according to Kelly Blue Book) we over here at Putting the Fun in Infertility have found ourselves in a bit of a pickle. We do not have 16,000 dollars lying around – trust us – we checked. John’s been buried ankles deep in the couch for the last two days and I just keep checking and rechecking the change jar that’s on top of the fridge. We converged in the dining room last night to combine our bounty and the grand total was a staggering 4.16, a ball of lint and something that resembled an old chip. “Hopeless” isn’t really a word that I like to throw around so let me just set it gently down in front of us all to stare at.

Since we moved out here around five years ago, John and I have been “employed” as independent contractors. This means we are both self-employed and unemployed at the very same time. Our lives are a dual dichotomy and I must say that it’s very satisfying existing as a riddle. That said, our work has a tendency to be a bit volatile, unsteady and unpredictable, especially during the “worst recession the United States has ever seen since The Great Depression”. Don’t ask me who I’m quoting, I’m sort of paraphrasing something I either read on the internet or heard on the radio or watched somebody say at some point.

On and on.

The last few months have been a bit of a holding pattern for us. John was recently picked up back over at MGM, which was an ultimate and timely blessing…and yes, I’ll say “blessing” as in “gift from God” because it’s exactly what I mean. He’s been over there for about a month and a half and since the get-go has been waiting to see if the show would pick up for a second season. If it didn’t, we would be left to our vices, scouring for change and selling lemonade on the corner. If it DID get picked up, he would be “guaranteed” another 4-6months of consistent work (barring MGM being sold off, closing down or imploding) and we could safely empty our savings account and roll the dice on baby making without worrying about the possibility of going into the poor house.

Well, yesterday the verdict came in………and……

THUNDERCATS ARE GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you, God! Happy days are here again! We’ve finally gotten the long awaited green light so, in celebration, John and I jumped around in our living room, hitting each other with pillows all willy-nilly while doing a sort of awkward victory dance……think Elaine from Seinfeld.


I am excited. But also a wee bit nervous. The “reprieve” is over and now I really have to GO through all of this instead of just reading about it from the safety and pain free comfort of my couch.

I feel like we’re at the precipice of a gigantic roller coaster and any second it’s going to tumble, but for the moment we’re just hanging out at the top, staring over the edge, just waiting, praying that the cart doesn’t derail and then………you’re off on a ride that leaves you excited and scared and breathless and maybe even screaming.

Here’s to the ride! I hope when it’s all over I feel like barfing.

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