My brother suggested that I start blogging our infertility journey a few weeks ago. We've been on this roller coaster for over three years, so my initial response was "why would I start now, when we're so far in to this experience?" But looking back, the me of three years ago never could have imagined what challenges we'd be in for, how long this might take, or the importance of having an outlet. There have been so many times we've thought "this will be the one" and our journey would be over. But that's because we're optimists...
This week I finished my CCRM homework. The list of tests required before you start an IVF cycle is a long at any clinic, but this clinic in the mile-high city has a list a mile long! For the past three weeks I've been poked and prodded in ways I never imagined (some of those will be described in later posts).
This week, because of the timing of my menstrual cycle, I did the last of my required blood work. On Wednesday morning (CD 3) I went in with my shipping kit, frozen test tube holder, and an order to draw, clot, and spin my blood so that just the serum could be frozen and shipped to Colorado. Two hours later my CCRM nurse called to tell me that they needed my local lab to run one more test and "had I gone in for my blood work yet?"
Ugh. Yes, I'd gone in for my blood draw. And now the 4 vials of blood had been clotted, spun, and frozen. No extra was left over for running this test. A test I've had ordered twice before, by the way, but apparently it hasn't been run correctly. Normally the lab draws blood, keeps a little in the fridge for a week, and runs your tests. That way, if your doctor decides to run additional tests, a sample already exists and you don't need to get another blood draw. That is, unless your blood has already been clotted, spun, frozen and shipped...you get the point.
So I went back in on Thursday morning. Wednesday was a right arm draw, so I held out my left arm for Nicolette, the fabby phlebotomist. The draw was quick - just 1 vial. And Nicolette reassured me that she does lots of draws for CCRM, that they're the best, and that she's praying for us.
But I have to admit that I've considered asking if they can just install a vein-tap....
Friday, July 26, 2013
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Really FedEx, really?
Today I had the most painful procedure I've had during this process. Things have been done to my uterus that most uteruses just don't get to experience. Things that make a pap and a pelvic sound like a walk in the park.
So, let's go back and review. There was the hysterosalpingogram (HSG) in 2011 at my local medical clinic. I was placed on a cold metal table with x-ray machinery above me while a (probably really uncomfortable) radiologist injected dye in to my uterus through a catheter. At the time I was a novice to the idea of putting a catheter through my cervix, and I have to be honest that even now, two years later, it's still not something I look forward to. Anyway, there's the catheter placed through my cervix and is now in my uterus. The radiologist has a bulb of iodine based dye that he's pumping in to my uterus. Let me remind you that the uterus is a very strong muscle, and a very sensitive one at that. This isn't feeling good. The goal of the HSG is to see the dye exit the fallopian tubes, indicating that there are no blockages. But the fallopian tubes are not superhighways of fluid flow. The inside diameter of a fallopian tube ranges, but at the narrower points it is just 1mm wide. It takes some significant pressure to get the dye to flow through and out the ends of the fallopian tubes. I was fortunate in that they saw the dye exit on both sides (yay!), but the poor technician in the room with me nearly had a broken hand from my squeezing. I learned my lesson with the HSG that no one messes with my uterus without my husband in the room with me!
Next there were various "transfers" via catheter. For a while we were transferring washed sperm in to my uterus in a series of intrauterine inseminations (IUI's). When we progressed to IVF there were more transfers of embryos (via a similarly small catheter). And apparently during one of my egg retrievals my local reproductive endocrinologist also did a little uterine work, scratching my endometrial lining prior to a transfer in the hopes that it would create a nice, cozy environment for an embryo that would be transferred the next month.
So by the beginning of 2013 my uterus had been inflated, scratched, and was no stranger to the catheter.
But 2013 has significantly widened the experiences of my uterus. In June there was the saline sonogram - saline was injected in to my uterus, and then my RE observed the surface of the uterine lining via intravaginal ultrasound. It's not a pleasant procedure, but compared to the HSG, the saline sonogram was a piece of cake. While the surface didn't look perfect, there weren't any obvious problems either. And just as she was completing the procedure, she mentioned that bascially everyone who has a saline sonogram ends up getting a hysteroscopy (camera in the uterus...I'm getting there) because the imaging under ultrasound is so low quality.
You guessed it! Next I had a hysteroscopy. By now I knew to expect some discomfort. For this procedure, carbon dioxide gas is injected in to the uterus so that the doctor can run a scope through the cervix and observe the internal lining. If you're following closely, I've now had dye, saline, and carbon dioxide injected in to my uterus. The disappointment of this procedure is that, unlike the previous two, I wasn't able to see anything. I was really looking forward to getting to see the inside of my uterus. When else was I going to have this kind of opportunity? Oh well. Disappointed, I started getting changed once the doctor left the room. But then I got a glance of the machine he'd used to inflate my uterus...thank goodness for a good sense of humor. This one still cracks me up!
But oh, we're not quite done yet. Because today's experience took the cake, both on the pain scale and on the humor scale. A uterine biopsy is just that - the doctor takes a sample of uterine tissue and sends it off for testing. I was prepared for this one, having already been through so many other uterine tests, right? I took my ibuprofen, had a partially full bladder, knew to expect the speculum and the catheter, and I was holding the hand of my honey. How bad could it be?
It felt like she was taking this uterine sample with a backhoe! All I could think of was Lamaze breathing, but I haven't taken a breathing class yet because we haven't gotten pregnant yet. Argh! I was so excited when my doctor told me we'd count together, but when she started at 1, I didn't know what our end point was. Were we counting to 10? 100? A million? Because if this pain doesn't end soon, I'm going to cry or scream. And there isn't screaming in the Reproductive Endocrinology and Infertility offices at PAMF - they share facilities with Ob/Gyn for crying out loud!
Ten. We were counting to ten. I don't know if she cut something out of me surgically or ripped it out with her bare hands, but it was over. She packed the tissue sample in a tube, put the tube in a bigger tube, and put it all in a clear FedEx Overnight Clinical Pak.
How many people can say they've walked down the street with part of one of their internal organs in a shipping package? I had to keep reminding myself as I walked in to the FedEx office that these Clinical Paks exist for a reason...they do this a lot! As I walked up to the box to deposit my UTERUS for shipping, I saw this advertisement and couldn't resist.
Really FedEx, really?
Yes.
So, let's go back and review. There was the hysterosalpingogram (HSG) in 2011 at my local medical clinic. I was placed on a cold metal table with x-ray machinery above me while a (probably really uncomfortable) radiologist injected dye in to my uterus through a catheter. At the time I was a novice to the idea of putting a catheter through my cervix, and I have to be honest that even now, two years later, it's still not something I look forward to. Anyway, there's the catheter placed through my cervix and is now in my uterus. The radiologist has a bulb of iodine based dye that he's pumping in to my uterus. Let me remind you that the uterus is a very strong muscle, and a very sensitive one at that. This isn't feeling good. The goal of the HSG is to see the dye exit the fallopian tubes, indicating that there are no blockages. But the fallopian tubes are not superhighways of fluid flow. The inside diameter of a fallopian tube ranges, but at the narrower points it is just 1mm wide. It takes some significant pressure to get the dye to flow through and out the ends of the fallopian tubes. I was fortunate in that they saw the dye exit on both sides (yay!), but the poor technician in the room with me nearly had a broken hand from my squeezing. I learned my lesson with the HSG that no one messes with my uterus without my husband in the room with me!
Next there were various "transfers" via catheter. For a while we were transferring washed sperm in to my uterus in a series of intrauterine inseminations (IUI's). When we progressed to IVF there were more transfers of embryos (via a similarly small catheter). And apparently during one of my egg retrievals my local reproductive endocrinologist also did a little uterine work, scratching my endometrial lining prior to a transfer in the hopes that it would create a nice, cozy environment for an embryo that would be transferred the next month.
So by the beginning of 2013 my uterus had been inflated, scratched, and was no stranger to the catheter.
But 2013 has significantly widened the experiences of my uterus. In June there was the saline sonogram - saline was injected in to my uterus, and then my RE observed the surface of the uterine lining via intravaginal ultrasound. It's not a pleasant procedure, but compared to the HSG, the saline sonogram was a piece of cake. While the surface didn't look perfect, there weren't any obvious problems either. And just as she was completing the procedure, she mentioned that bascially everyone who has a saline sonogram ends up getting a hysteroscopy (camera in the uterus...I'm getting there) because the imaging under ultrasound is so low quality.
You guessed it! Next I had a hysteroscopy. By now I knew to expect some discomfort. For this procedure, carbon dioxide gas is injected in to the uterus so that the doctor can run a scope through the cervix and observe the internal lining. If you're following closely, I've now had dye, saline, and carbon dioxide injected in to my uterus. The disappointment of this procedure is that, unlike the previous two, I wasn't able to see anything. I was really looking forward to getting to see the inside of my uterus. When else was I going to have this kind of opportunity? Oh well. Disappointed, I started getting changed once the doctor left the room. But then I got a glance of the machine he'd used to inflate my uterus...thank goodness for a good sense of humor. This one still cracks me up!But oh, we're not quite done yet. Because today's experience took the cake, both on the pain scale and on the humor scale. A uterine biopsy is just that - the doctor takes a sample of uterine tissue and sends it off for testing. I was prepared for this one, having already been through so many other uterine tests, right? I took my ibuprofen, had a partially full bladder, knew to expect the speculum and the catheter, and I was holding the hand of my honey. How bad could it be?
It felt like she was taking this uterine sample with a backhoe! All I could think of was Lamaze breathing, but I haven't taken a breathing class yet because we haven't gotten pregnant yet. Argh! I was so excited when my doctor told me we'd count together, but when she started at 1, I didn't know what our end point was. Were we counting to 10? 100? A million? Because if this pain doesn't end soon, I'm going to cry or scream. And there isn't screaming in the Reproductive Endocrinology and Infertility offices at PAMF - they share facilities with Ob/Gyn for crying out loud!
Ten. We were counting to ten. I don't know if she cut something out of me surgically or ripped it out with her bare hands, but it was over. She packed the tissue sample in a tube, put the tube in a bigger tube, and put it all in a clear FedEx Overnight Clinical Pak.
How many people can say they've walked down the street with part of one of their internal organs in a shipping package? I had to keep reminding myself as I walked in to the FedEx office that these Clinical Paks exist for a reason...they do this a lot! As I walked up to the box to deposit my UTERUS for shipping, I saw this advertisement and couldn't resist.
Yes.
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