Monday was my big day – hysteroscopy with possible removal
of adhesions. I’ve mentioned
before how much I heart my ob/gyn, but I have to say it again. We got to the hospital, were settled in
our room and she came to visit.
She talked about what would happen, how things would hopefully go and
what to expect. She was going to
run back to her office across the street to grab an IUD in case there was
scarring. She’d use this to keep
things open and then we’d be on estrogen for about a month to help the healing.
She came back with the IUD, just as my anesthesiologist was
getting ready to do her thing. I
tried to ask her a question and just started crying, “I’m so scared it’s going
to be bad.” She sat down at the
side of my bed and she looked like she was going to cry. “I know I’m not supposed to say this,
but I’m scared, too. I really want
this for you and I’m really emotionally invested in this. That’s why I brought Dr. J to
help. I just want another pair of
eyes and guidance.” It was the
first I’d heard that she was bringing a wing man and it didn’t make me feel
worried or scared that she was scared, it made me feel relieved. I think being a little scared can help
us be great, can help us do well, can keep us focused and it also means she’s
human. I like that about her. So we went in, all the while talking
about a New Yorker article I’d read at work about how teachers and doctors can
benefit from coaches. Timely. It also helped that Brett brought up
the Checklist – how doctors have become more efficient and successful when
using checklists. Looks like I
brought my own wingman!
In and out. I
was knocked out by 11 am and was starting to come to by noon - such a surreal
feeling coming out of surgery. And
there was Dr. Johnson, “Everything went great, no scarring, we got in. I didn’t
use the IUD. I’m going to talk to
Brett.” That was about all I remember, that and being overjoyed that things
were okay.
When I finally got to recovery, Brett filled me in on the
details I never would have remembered before. At first, they couldn’t get the hysteroscope inside. She actually had to use a device they
use to dilate tear ducts – TEAR DUCTS!– to get inside. Afterwards I had a chance to
really think about this. If all
goes well, eventually, something akin to a Thanksgiving turkey is going to need
to squeeze through a space that currently can only be accessed by a device made
to get inside a TEAR DUCT! But we
will deal with that when we get to it. She dilated my cervix is and hopeful that it will continue to
stay open. But other than that,
everything looks fine.
I’ll admit, that sweet joy lasted a day and most of it I was still
high on anesthesia. The next day, she called to tell me that
she wondered if perhaps the light periods were the result of low ovarian
reserve. In my mind, this was the
worst diagnosis. And it might not
be because of my age, but due to the chemotherapy 8 years ago. She thinks it might be good for me to
go back to the RE (reproductive endocrinologist) and have him run some tests to
see. If it is this, it means that having a baby will be really tough, if not completely unlikely. Depends on how bad the ovarian reserve is. It's hard to think about really and there is a part of me that just doesn't even believe this could be the case. I know that Western medicine has it's limits, and I'm certainly more than willing to continue to explore other options. But first, I need to make sure that we've done everything we possibly can within our limits - both emotionally and financially. I'm trying not to focus on that later bit. I am not sure how we will pay for the RE if he thinks we need to do serious fertility treatments. Guess we'll cross or not cross that bridge when we get there. Unfortunately, insurance doesn't cover any of it.
In the meantime, I’ve purchased the book “The Infertility
Cure,” have made an appointment to see a Chinese Medicine doctor, continuing with acupuncture and started
back at yoga. I vacillate between
feeling utterly defeated, exhausted and disconnected from Brett because I’m so
damn focused on myself and feeling overly optimistic, like I’ll be damned if I
went through all that cancer ‘stuff’ and have ‘this’ (whatever this is) get in
my way.
Maybe they call that bipolar? Hope not! That’d
just be one more thing to fixate on – great!
So… not sure where this leaves us. I guess we will just continue on this path, doing what we
can until we can’t go any longer.
In the meantime, I need to create some space away from the worrying and
fixating. Not sure how to do that
just yet, but I’m working on it.
Oh, and did I mention we got baby chicks? Three of them. Hopefully they will bring us some
good luck.
