Today I had my appointment with the Reproductive Endocrinologist. Let's call her Dr. Cool (as in not warm; I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this one). First of all, I was a few minutes late since the information desk told me to take the wrong elevator. When I arrived, I was then shuttled off to talk to the insurance guru who was all stressed to tell me what I already knew ... that I had no insurance coverage for infertility treatment. The poor girl was so relieved that she didn't have to break the news to me. I think she's probably had to deal with many an hysterical, infertile woman and was girding herself for a similar experience with me. Anyway, after that brief interlude, they brought me back to the front desk and I checked in six minutes late for my appointment. There was a little nurse standing at the ready to take me right back to Dr. Cool's office where I was told that since I was late they were going to do vitals after so that Dr. Cool's schedule wouldn't be affected by my tardiness. I didn't even go into the whole saga of the misdirection and the insurance summit. It just seemed to be more effort than it was worth.
Dr. Cool then started to tell me how she had looked over my chart in preparation for our appointment, and we've been trying for two years so far? Wrong, Dr. Cool. It may seem like two years, but it has actually only been eight months. It was not starting well. Then she referred to my husband as Leon when discussing his SA. Wrong again, Dr. Cool, but you get points for trying to refer to him by name and the thought of him going by Leon did kind of make me smile. At that point she gave up and just went through my pre-appointment questionnaire. In the medical history section, she spent a solid five minutes trying to convince me to go on anti-depressants. She told me that there are options out there for people who are TTC, and that one shouldn't live depressed. I told her I was doing fine, that I see a therapist and the past few months have been difficult, but it was not anything that I couldn't handle. She also talked me into going to see yet another GI doctor. I told her about my horrible experience with Dr. Crazy Name, and she thought I needed a better doctor and someone who would take the time to look into the problem instead of dismissing it. I appreciated her willingness to advocate for that, although, I don't think I have any GI problem. She did say that Celiac or Crohn's could affect fertility, so I am willing to shell out another $50 to see if I get any further than I did last time. After that, she went into the whole explanation of IUI (not using the name) and saying that, given my age, it was best to be more aggressive in the treatment straight out of the gate. After explaining the whole process (I felt like saying, "Lady, TTC has been my life for the better part of the past year, do you honestly think I am completely unaware of this process?" I didn't though. I was a good girl and sat there and nodded.), I told her that I didn't have insurance coverage for any infertility related treatment until September and that I was unable to go that route at this time. So it is on to Clomid. She sent off a prescription to CVS, told me to try for three months and then come back to see her.
I don't know if it was because I got off on the wrong foot arriving a little late, or what the story is, but I feel that this was a bit of a waste of time. I guess it's because I knew what she was basically going to tell me before I even walked in the door. It's that I'm old and that's all there is to it. Of course I could have done without the whole, "At age 40 only one out of every twelve or fifteen eggs is good," comment. That was a little harsh to hear. I knew it was bad, but didn't know it was quite that bad. Given those statistics, though, that means that I should be hitting the jackpot in about 4-6 months! Of course then there is the 40% miscarriage rate of a 40 year old woman that she informed me of. Good times all around, I would say.
I'll take the Clomid and see where it gets me. She wants me to do OPKs so that I know when I am ovulating and then have sex every other day around that time. So much for taking it easy for the next few months. Let's face it, though, I wasn't all that good at that.
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