Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.
I hate making decisions. I'm terrible at it. I stood in TJMaxx for 30 minutes staring at phone covers. It's a $7 decision and I couldn't pick a stupid plastic cover for the life of me.
What's crazy though is that as a 911 dispatcher we make split-second life-saving decisions. Second guessing ourselves can kill someone. I'm good at my job. Making a job related choice is as simple as breathing. It's second nature.
Deciding where to eat lunch is another story. It's a thousand wonders we don't starve to death each day.
Anyshat, back to my point of this rambling post, I still don't know what to do about my infertility treatment options. I'm leaning towards the Lap. I talked to a friend who had it done and has since had two beautiful babies. Hearing her personal story helped me feel not so scared.
I would love to hear some encouraging stories that hold my hand and blow rainbows and sunshine up my butt and tell me that I shouldn't freak out and the surgery isn't that bad.
On that note, I have yet to venture over to the Trouble TTC board of the bump. I'm active on the TTGP board but I've yet to introduce myself to the 3T board. Through lurking over there, I've learned a whole shat ton of information but that's also what scares me about coming out to those awesome ladies. I feel like such a newbie again as I'm constantly searching the 3T boards posts for knowledge.
To sum up this whole blabbering pointless post, I would like to confess that I am a giant vagina. I'm scared of the surgery. I'm scared of feeling like a dumb hick on 3T. And while I'm admitting things, I may as well tell you I am afraid of the dark.
I'm one giant gaping vadge. Vajayjay. Pussy. (DH says that I say pussy weird. He claims I say it like "poosy"). So I guess I am a Poosy too.
What's crazy though is that as a 911 dispatcher we make split-second life-saving decisions. Second guessing ourselves can kill someone. I'm good at my job. Making a job related choice is as simple as breathing. It's second nature.
Deciding where to eat lunch is another story. It's a thousand wonders we don't starve to death each day.
Anyshat, back to my point of this rambling post, I still don't know what to do about my infertility treatment options. I'm leaning towards the Lap. I talked to a friend who had it done and has since had two beautiful babies. Hearing her personal story helped me feel not so scared.
I would love to hear some encouraging stories that hold my hand and blow rainbows and sunshine up my butt and tell me that I shouldn't freak out and the surgery isn't that bad.
On that note, I have yet to venture over to the Trouble TTC board of the bump. I'm active on the TTGP board but I've yet to introduce myself to the 3T board. Through lurking over there, I've learned a whole shat ton of information but that's also what scares me about coming out to those awesome ladies. I feel like such a newbie again as I'm constantly searching the 3T boards posts for knowledge.
To sum up this whole blabbering pointless post, I would like to confess that I am a giant vagina. I'm scared of the surgery. I'm scared of feeling like a dumb hick on 3T. And while I'm admitting things, I may as well tell you I am afraid of the dark.
I'm one giant gaping vadge. Vajayjay. Pussy. (DH says that I say pussy weird. He claims I say it like "poosy"). So I guess I am a Poosy too.
Monday, November 26, 2012
No where near a diagnosis
I am no closer to a diagnosis.
There's good news and bad news. And then some extra special WTF news.
Good news: I'm ovulating.
Bad news: My FSH levels are kinda off the mark. I need AMH tested. I likely have endometriosis. But of course the only way to diagnose that is with a HSG or Lap.
Here's the extra special WTF news with what was said and (what I'm really thinking).
Dr A: ::playing with the dick wad camera in my vadge:: "Your ovaries look great. You're ovulating. That's good. You're uterus looks great. ::Long pause::
(Long pauses are never good)
Dr A: I don't know what this is. ::takes his ever loving precious time staring at a black and white mass on the screen.:::
It looks like a cyst. Maybe a peritubular cyst.
Me: ok. (What the what?)
At this point my mind went as fuzzy as the ultrasound screen as I stared at this cyst that sits smack dab in the middle of my ovaries. (Kindergarten cop voice: is it a tumor?????)
Here's the problem (on top of the other problems) the cyst can't be properly diagnosed without doing a Lap. The laparoscopic procedure would also confirm and treat the Endo, if in fact that's where the problem is.
Option 1: Do nothing. Keep having sex and wish for the best.
Option 2: HSG and if it shows Endo then have the Lap anyways.
Option 3: Lap and take care of the Endo if it's there and also find out what the hell the cyst is.
One minute I think surgery is the option. The next minute I think I want option 1. It's the easiest option. It's also the one with the smallest chance of a BFP.
I'm at least going to get Dr As office to get surgery pre-approval from my insurance. I need to see what my deductible is.
You guys, I'm scared. The worst thing that's ever happened to me personally is a broken toe. This is put-you-to-sleep-and-sell-your-kidney-on-Craigslist-surgery.
I'm not gonna lie. I'm kind of a big vagina when it comes to someone sticking tools where they shouldn't be inside my body. Sex toys are one thing but by god you better not come near me with that weird back assward nut cracker speculum you have in your hand. You know what bothers me most ... It's not the surgical tools, it's the tube down my throat. I'm all for deepthroating things but not tubes. Thats beyond my safe zone.
Speaking of safe zones, I texted the police chief about work related matters today and accidentally sent "laterz" instead of talk to you "later". He replied I've been reading too much Fifty Shades of Grey. At first I was embarrassed until I realized he had to have read it too. I'm saving that nugget of knowledge for blackmail.
There's good news and bad news. And then some extra special WTF news.
Good news: I'm ovulating.
Bad news: My FSH levels are kinda off the mark. I need AMH tested. I likely have endometriosis. But of course the only way to diagnose that is with a HSG or Lap.
Here's the extra special WTF news with what was said and (what I'm really thinking).
Dr A: ::playing with the dick wad camera in my vadge:: "Your ovaries look great. You're ovulating. That's good. You're uterus looks great. ::Long pause::
(Long pauses are never good)
Dr A: I don't know what this is. ::takes his ever loving precious time staring at a black and white mass on the screen.:::
It looks like a cyst. Maybe a peritubular cyst.
Me: ok. (What the what?)
At this point my mind went as fuzzy as the ultrasound screen as I stared at this cyst that sits smack dab in the middle of my ovaries. (Kindergarten cop voice: is it a tumor?????)
Here's the problem (on top of the other problems) the cyst can't be properly diagnosed without doing a Lap. The laparoscopic procedure would also confirm and treat the Endo, if in fact that's where the problem is.
Option 1: Do nothing. Keep having sex and wish for the best.
Option 2: HSG and if it shows Endo then have the Lap anyways.
Option 3: Lap and take care of the Endo if it's there and also find out what the hell the cyst is.
One minute I think surgery is the option. The next minute I think I want option 1. It's the easiest option. It's also the one with the smallest chance of a BFP.
I'm at least going to get Dr As office to get surgery pre-approval from my insurance. I need to see what my deductible is.
You guys, I'm scared. The worst thing that's ever happened to me personally is a broken toe. This is put-you-to-sleep-and-sell-your-kidney-on-Craigslist-surgery.
I'm not gonna lie. I'm kind of a big vagina when it comes to someone sticking tools where they shouldn't be inside my body. Sex toys are one thing but by god you better not come near me with that weird back assward nut cracker speculum you have in your hand. You know what bothers me most ... It's not the surgical tools, it's the tube down my throat. I'm all for deepthroating things but not tubes. Thats beyond my safe zone.
Speaking of safe zones, I texted the police chief about work related matters today and accidentally sent "laterz" instead of talk to you "later". He replied I've been reading too much Fifty Shades of Grey. At first I was embarrassed until I realized he had to have read it too. I'm saving that nugget of knowledge for blackmail.
Boogity! Boogity! Boogity!
After dissecting the schedule, Dr. A's secretary got me in today at 3:30. Woohoo!
It's amazing to go to a Dr that works their tails off to help the patients. It makes me warm and fuzzy inside.
Squee!!!
I just hope my excitement isn't killed this afternoon when I hear my test results.
If things go bad, I already have plans to go to Mellow Mushroom tonight for $1 drinks and pizza slices!
It's amazing to go to a Dr that works their tails off to help the patients. It makes me warm and fuzzy inside.
Squee!!!
I just hope my excitement isn't killed this afternoon when I hear my test results.
If things go bad, I already have plans to go to Mellow Mushroom tonight for $1 drinks and pizza slices!
Friday, November 23, 2012
I knew it wouldn't be this easy.
The holiday not only screwed up my waist line but its frocked up my cycle this month. CD 1 was Thursday. Theoretically I was supposed to call on CD 1 and schedule an appointment for CD 3-5 to have my first date with Mr. Dildo Cam and speak to Dr. A about our options.
However Thursday was day 1 and the office is closed until Monday which will be CD 5, meaning if they can't get me in on Monday then... Uh wait I don't know what it means. I don't know if I can go in on day 6 or if it has to be on 3-5. Does that mean I'm not going to get intimate with Mr. Cam until next month?
It could mean nothing or it could mean everything. What I find odd about the whole thing is that I called the answering service and she was no help. I'm new to this whole RE and infertility thing but what the heck is the point of the answering service if you can't answer a question or schedule an appointment?
However Thursday was day 1 and the office is closed until Monday which will be CD 5, meaning if they can't get me in on Monday then... Uh wait I don't know what it means. I don't know if I can go in on day 6 or if it has to be on 3-5. Does that mean I'm not going to get intimate with Mr. Cam until next month?
It could mean nothing or it could mean everything. What I find odd about the whole thing is that I called the answering service and she was no help. I'm new to this whole RE and infertility thing but what the heck is the point of the answering service if you can't answer a question or schedule an appointment?
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Tehehehehe
Because laughter is the best medicine for CD 1 and cramps...
Meanwhile, I'm here at work on Thanksgiving and am in the middle of a food coma. Happy National Leftovers Day!
Meanwhile, I'm here at work on Thanksgiving and am in the middle of a food coma. Happy National Leftovers Day!
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Never thought I would be wishing for AF
I never thought I would be wishing for AF to show. I've been spotting for two days and now I need AF to show so I can call Dr A's office today and schedule my CD 3-5 exam and dildo cam date. Noooooow that its late to show I'm going to have to wait until Friday or Monday to try to squeeze into an appointment.
In other news, it's been a good day at work. Our Christmas bonus is triple what we were expecting! Woohoo!!!
And just because I <3 (balls) Blake Shelton...
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