Archive for January 28th, 2009

Not ready to trigger, apparently. WHATEVER.

SuperDoc is this cute little South African Jewish man. My primary nurse is as Irish Catholic as you get. Me? I’m an Orthodox Jew. So SuperDoc loves to torture my nurse by peppering his notes to me with little Hebrew & Yiddish phrases. She can never pronounce them and certainly has no idea what “meshuga” or “shiksa” means.

So today he tells her that I should stay on the same dose tonight and come back for monitoring tomorrow.

“Are you frickin’ kidding me?” I said.
“You’re not ready to trigger, darlin'” my nurse replied.
“Oh for crying out loud. This is going to mean a Saturday retrieval.”
“Or not. If I had to guess I’d say you’re goint to trigger Friday, not Thursday. But that’s just a guess.”
“Friday? So a Sunday retrieval then. Hrm. I could work with that. But you know it’s going to be a Saturday retrieval. He’s doing this to me on purpose.”
“He said to say something else to you, but you know he’s just trying to make me look stupid, because you know I can’t pronounce any of this…”
“It says, ‘peekoowa’ I dunno… there’s that ‘ch’ thing on the end. Then ‘ne-‘ um. Peekooo. I don’t know.”
We went on like that for a while before I realized what she was saying.
“Are KIDDING ME? Pikuach Nefesh? Is that what he wrote? REALLY?”
“Yeah! Exactly! I knew you’d know what I was trying to say!”
“You know, that quiet, serene, calm little man is evil. EVIL. Do you know what he just told me?”
“Um, no? I have no idea!”
“He just told me I’m having retrieval on Saturday.”
“Oh, he acts all quiet and and soft-spoken and sweet, but underneath it all? He’s a little smartass, that one! And don’t you forget it!”

(for the record, pikuach nefesh does not apply here, though that doesn’t mean that there aren’t halachically appropriate ways to be able to go to a retrieval on Shabbos – it’s just a logistical nightmare)

Needless to say, this is not going to be fun at all if that’s the way it plays out. But hey, maybe another day or two will get us to 8? Meh. We’ll just have to see what happens, right? There’s really not much we can do about it regardless. It’s going to be the way it’s going to be and it will either work or it won’t.

Update: same dose = same dose as prescribed originally. I did tell my nurse about the accidental double dose. But no harm, no foul, and we’ll just see what happens.

and yes, my doctor does have a sense of humor. And he certainly does think I still have a sense of humor. Little does he know.

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Probably Six

Here’s what I’ve got:

Right: 20.9, 15.6
Left: 16.9, 15.7, 16.3, 14.6
(Endo, 11.5)

Probably will get 6. Me? My gut says cancel. My husband says go forward. I’m sure, when I hear from him, that’s what my doctor will say as well. Whatever. I know many people would be thrilled to pieces with 6. Over the moon. And I know that quality over quanity is what we’re looking for, but I have no guarantees of quality right now. And I have no guarantees that if I had quantity right now that the quality would suck. It’s not always one or the other.

Yes, I only need one. And yes, I’m only planning on transferring one. But I was NOT hoping to only have one available for transfer. Bah.

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So, um, I’m kind of an idiot.

So last night I was seriously considering taking no meds for two days until tomorrow’s appointment and just throwing in the towel on this cycle. I meant it, too. But, as I said last night, I’m not a rebel. I’m a good girl who does what she’s told.

Unfortunately, I’m also a tired girl, who’s getting terrible headaches and therefore apparently can’t keep everything straight.

I just took my Follistim and my Luveris. But. Um. I forgot that I’d taken it at 6pm between getting home from one appointment and rushing off to my evening class. Originally I’d been planning to just wait until after the class because I didn’t think I’d have time (I didn’t really have time, but I’d managed to squeeze it in, since 6pm is my normal time to take it and I do hate to be off schedule).

I completely forgot I took it at 6pm and stuck to my original plan to take it after class. Um. Whoops?

So my husband’s a pharmacist, so I’m sitting there thinking that maybe he can impart some words of wisdom, or at least comfort. Maybe he can tell me that I’m not going to grow an eleventh toe or a third head (wait, um, how many heads do I have?), or turn purple with green spots because of this.

“So I did something really bad.”
“You saw me take my meds just now?”
“I also took them at six.”
*stifling a laugh, badly, I might add*
“Wow, your head must hurt like a motherf*cker.”
“Yeah, um, thanks hon.”

Given that overly empathetic response, and the obvious professional concern he had for my physical well-being, I can only assume that I will not die a gruesome death from this error on my part.


Now all I have to figure out is whether to own up to my error to the doc tomorrow…

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