Still alive, out of the country

That basically sums it up. And alternating between hungry and nauseous. I had my first full meal post-ER on the plane ever. Important note: TA.P, the official airline of Portugal, has the most beautiful male flight attendants ever. And there are women crazier than me out there. I read it in the airline catalogue, which notes that although most airlines do not allow women to fly past 36 weeks of pregnancy, this airline allows women to fly up to 7 days before their due date. You just have to fill out a form so that they can prep the onboard L & D suite. Useful information anyway, which I hope never to need.

This is a country that specializes in pastries and alcohol, and I have indulged in neither although I have had a roll at dinner every night out of pure starvation. Fascinating, eh? But there was a little point: everyone is already convinced I'm pregnant (there, that's only the 2nd time I've written that word on my blog, the 1st being the paragraph above). Today I sat through:

a 2-hour, 6-person, 2-bottles of wine lunch
followed by a short walk to a cafe
where 5-people had 2-coffees each and I ordered water,
subsequently followed by
5-people having 2-beers each and I ordered water
followed by a
2-hour, 6-person, 2-bottles of wine dinner

and only 3 of those 5 people asked if I was pregnant
not bad.

Shouldn't public opinion count for something?

bother

My truly incredible tummy doctor, who ordered a million lab tests today, suggested that he call in a few different prescriptions to my pharmacy. The idea was that I would fill the prescriptions and that would give him until I board the plane at 5 pm to call and tell me what to take. Brilliant? Yes. Awesome? Yes. See why I love this guy. Oh, and of course, because he is more obsessive about this whole baby thing than my IF doctor, only 'class B' drugs. Of course, it only makes me absurdly angry that extraneous very expensive drugs that I may not even need can all be covered with a $10 co-pay thanks to my insurance, but a little folli.stim is absolutely 100% not covered.

Fine. All good. Except that after I filled them the pharmacist wanted to talk to me and said "Now, you know all of these can interfere with bcp, don't you?" That's right, all of these meds would be fine for a little bean in the tummy but they might prevent me from starting a new cycle in 2 weeks. So, seems likely that I'll be refusing treatment again sometime mid-tomorrow afternoon. If you don't hear from me for a couple of days I've got the all-okay to travel signal and I'm off to Europe.

ps - How's this for a little crazy and random good news: my engagement ring is loose! Down to 135, from 151. Suddenly hitting those 20's again seems a lot more realistic.

Update: I WIN!!!

Not that it saves my cort.isol. We will be billed $425 and the clinic apologizes for the 'miscommunication.' However, instead of admitting they were wrong they said the lower cost is because I'll be getting some u/s done here. This is an entirely implausible story since the doctor hadn't ok'd having the earlier u/s in NYC when I was quoted that price, but we'll take it. Now, there's a good chance I can get those done for free, which seems to make it worth it to always have my baseline done in NYC. Of course, not nearly as reliable, but how much can you botch a baseline? (That's a rhetorical question, don't think of sending me horror stories. I'm supposed to be learning to meditate this week, after all).

Of course, winning is a bit relative. Our medical bills this month:
$425 IF clinic
$300 drugs for IF
$100 co-pays for stomach problems
$320 lab work to date
ER visit ?????? (It was in-network, but you never know what you'll get)

I was going to write about how Zen I've become ...

and how the Yoga DVD seems to be helping, even though it's still in it's wrapping ... until I came home to a bill for over $1000 from the IF clinic. Ok, so they have us down for an IUI which is $400 that we're not doing (apparently it only increases success rates 1-2% for non-clomid ovulation induction), but that's still over $600 for 'monitoring' for the next cycle. Now since I'm getting the 1st 2 u/s done in NYC and paying for those, that's an awful lot for as little as 2 u/s if they cancel us again (and remember, this place doesn't even have injections training - just sent us home with the DVD). Needless to say I just called and screamed/fake cried* to the billing department because they told us $425 when we signed up. Clear as day, with the doctor, the nurse, and JD in attendance we were told $425. And I thew a fit about the $425, so I remember that amount very clearly. So hopefully they'll get back to me tomorrow before I leave the country ...

IF, I leave the country. I was calm and zen this morning as I submitted to a host of rather unpleasant medical tests (as a long-time gastro.entology patient, I can tell you these are far more painful than anything IF clinic has ever done to me). And hopefully I'll get some results by 12 tomorrow. My 'medical team' is not thrilled about my going, but since there's no clear line of treatment yet and only one very rare condition that would require immediate surgery, I'm pretty sure I'll be off. I'm in need of a vacation by this point in the week.

*I figured crying would make me a more sympathetic character, but really, truly I felt like screaming.

My life isn't always a roller coaster

but it definitely seems that way on my blog. And now I have a coherent explanation: every time that something good IF-related happens, I want to record it so that I can reread it later. Of course, I realize that makes it less likely that any of my 3 dedicated readers (hi!) will have time to respond to the important things, but that's a trade-off I have to make.

So, my dear friend R. came over this afternoon. He came to my apartment because I told him over the phone I didn't want to go out to eat, but I hadn't explained anything else. R. is one of these brilliant fellows doing a PhD/MD, and more importantly, unlike every other doctor/med student I know who is sick of hearing about people's medical woes at cocktail parties and such, R. is always enthusiastic to discuss what's going on (after all, some of my medical adventures are rather extra-ordinary). And we'll be in school the same amount of time, which always makes me feel better. R. actually read all my lab results from the ER and explained the couple of tests that I didn't recognize and pointed out the relevant discrepancies for trying to decide if this is just a virus or something more. He spent a good hour talking about my intestines and IF treatments. He's great, entirely self-deprecating about his knowledge and will only go so far as to say things like "If your doctor doesn't mention it, you might want to ask about X ..." So he gave me some possible outcomes for my appointment tomorrow morning. And suggested a 2nd opinion about the cort.isol because he doesn't think my RE is doing enough about it (and truly, neither do I, I was just hoping to ignore the problem). He's not a big believer in my low-carb diet, so he took me to a med-student-sanctioned Tasti D-Lite treat and then to the bookstore to buy a yoga DVD (which he also doesn't think will affect my c.ortisol at all, but can't hurt).

And on our walk to the bookstore we talked about his future family. His fertility problems are of the functional sort; hard for 2 men to produce a beautiful baby without a little help. It's one of those awful situations which I always thought I'd be able to help in some way, but, nope, my parts are broken. And he really wants biological children at the moment. Which is something I find a bit hard to identify with, but I can understand that a lot of the female-side IF anger and frustration also applies to gay men.

Oh, I have so so so much work to do before Tuesday at 12, but tonight is my favorite pop cultural event of the year and I will watch the Oscars start to finish (including the red carpet). Of course, since I don't own a TV, I have to go out. To a fabulous party. I'm bringing wine and champagne, since goodness knows, we have plenty enough of it hanging around the apartment that's not going to get drunk this month. And I'll sneak a cube of bullion into my purse for my own delicious dinner ...

the diet goes downhill

I just called my mother and asked her the pressing food question that has been on my mind all day: "If you were trying to make egg salad from chicken breast, what would you do?" That basically sums it up. I'm not supposed to be eating more than 1/3 of a cup of solid food at a time, and since all the drinks are carb-heavy, I'm trying to make the most of my food ... but cooking chicken is so not my thing.

She said she'd call back after she finished her own lunch.

I should reconsider

talking to my supervisor at all. The fact that it took me more than 20 minutes to write her an e-mail explaining that I have to miss our meeting Monday because of a follow-up doctor's appointment about my intestines probably means I'm not ready for a more serious conversation ...

But, in exciting blog news, someone actually posted a photo of our save-the-date on their blog! My wedding - in blogland.

Wow

Well, I was worried about telling my mother about this cycle but I just came clean with my father. Completely. He asked again in a joking manner if I was trying to get knocked up before the wedding, and right out of my mouth came "Well, our last cycle was canceled so it seems less likely" and then we talked all about it. And about the timing for future cycles and whether to talk to my supervisor and the cost. And about when we would schedule IVF and where and whether he would need to help pay. He asked what the cost would be to waiting another 2 years (when I'll be back in the U.S. for good) and I explained that since we want to do this more than once we need to leave a lot of time and he said that was reasonable. He even suggested my taking 6 months off from school to do IF treatments full time. A little awkward talking about JD and his 'contribution' but we didn't linger there. I'm very happy that he knows exactly what is going on, which he never did with my sister's treatments. We talked for a full hour on the phone, which we never do. And he was doing his very best to be as supportive as possible.

In need of advice

First, a quick note to relieve my 3 dedicated readers (hi!): apparently I did not reek on my flights yesterday because people were very nice to me. Someone even offered to share a cab with me, which is firm evidence that I must not have smelled that badly (of course, my bag was lost and they left in the time it took to fill out all those forms ...)

So here I sit, safely home, fixated on food (but not hungry), listening to the baby's toddler brother play a racing game next to my kitchen. Anyway ...

I am in need of some advice. In case you were wondering about when I fit in my obsessing about grad school, the apparent answer is Saturday night. My last cycle was fit into a week when nobody noticed that I was absent from campus. The next one couldn't come at a worse time: I actually invited a speaker to campus (from across the pond, no less) and I will now miss his visit. And some other critical events. Which brings us to tonight's question: Should I tell my professor/advisor/supervisor/the woman who will someday get me a job if that is ever going to happen?

In case you were wondering whether I think she'll be sympathetic to 'the cause,' the answer is: it's a mixed bag. She in fact had to go through IF treatments and had twins later in life, but she's also responsible for keeping me on schedule and I can understand how anyone would be concerned about our lifestyle and its affect on my getting work done (in fact, I was thinking of adding a banner along the lines of: If you're looking for a blog that will assure you that your own life is entirely under control, you've found it. Thoughts?)

This decision is even more bizarre because I talked with my mentor about IF years ago and again for a whole afternoon this fall. She had several miscarriages and has spent a long time wishing for a larger family (a fact that I'm sure I was entirely inconsiderate about this fall during that conversation - hard to ask for sympathy from the woman who has just aged out of her fertility but still wants a baby and whose partner won't consider adoption, but I just wasn't thinking at the time). For all that she was extremely sympathetic, she kept telling me to plan my life as if no particular cycle would work. So I have committed to some crazy things that I really, truly will have to cancel if anything works before September. And I don't want ANY advice from my supervisor. She's brilliant and incredible, but we don't see eye to eye on many things and I really don't want to get any advice, particularly because my best guess is that advice will be something along the lines of "Wait a few years and then do IF treatments." And that's not what I want and it's also not what I think would be best for my career. So, do I risk a confrontation and her in some way holding it against me? Do I make up some white lies to cover my absence (oh, those migraines, 2nd in rank to my endless dental appointments ...) even though I really, really dislike lying? Do I leave my absence as a big question mark and just flee South?

I know that most of me just wants to get this out in the open. It's a big part of my life and I want the people around me to at least have the chance to understand what's going on (I know, not all of them will). But maybe I also need to treat grad school more like a job and leave people whose opinions really matter out of it. Thoughts?

*********
As for my health at the moment, the short answer is: who knows? I have a follow up appointment Monday morning and I've been told to avoid food as much as possible till then. And not helping the worry is that I really haven't eaten much in the past few days: 10 bites of rice and beans (airport), 1 cup of egg drop soup (100 calories total), a small gelato (I was traveling), and that's about it. Shouldn't I be famished by now? Is this a bad sign?

Oh, the things we do, part 2

I'm a bit mortified to be sitting in the airport still smelling like stale vomit (yes, I was that tired at 4:30 am that I didn't shower when I got home, yes I was planning to wash the sheets this morning) but maybe no one else can tell ... Oh, and I have a big blue bruise on my forehead where I banged it while sick yesterday night ... the drama.

Total airline incompetency this morning. Webpage says my flight is canceled. Help line says it's on time. By the time we sorted that out it all the flights for tomorrow were full and it was down to: fly Sunday or dash to the airport this afternoon. So here I sit, smelly, waiting for a delayed flight. Good chance I'll be overnighting in Atlanta. Also not sure what exactly I'll be eating all day ... hard to combine my kosher, low-carb lifestyle with instructions to eat bland carbs until the specialist can see me ...

Anyway, clearly we've got our drama out of the way for this cycle, and it must be smooth sailing ahead for at least another 4 weeks.

*******
Oh, cute kid story. The toddler next to me checking in at the airport looked up at his father and said "This is a really big library." That's right kid, if I could count my travel time as work, I'd be so completely ahead with all these botched flights.

Update: flight canceled

That pretty much says it all. Not looking good for me, or actually meeting up with the specialist anytime soon.

When bored on a Thursday night, consider the ER

I guess my body decided to take advantage of this lull in IF treatments by developing an entirely new gastroentological adventure ... starting with severe stomach pain. Optimist that I am, I honestly considered whether this could be those 'magical cramps' that other women seem to get. But no, my tummy doctor told me to go to the ER ...

And while I was mentally prepared for a long wait, my body took over (please karma, don't catch up) and I proceeded to vomit all over the ER waiting room, including some poor guy sitting next to me. So I skipped the triage line because those nurses wanted me out of there A-SAP. Yesterday I ate:
2 hard boiled eggs (breakfast)
2 fried eggs (mid-morning snack)
small salad (lunch)
2 eggs in egg salad (mid-afternoon snack)
2 eggs in egg drop soup (dinner)

I knew we were in trouble when I could reconstitute all my meals from the ER floor ... At least Dr. Gorgeous has a second career in IF if he gets bored of the ER. He was totally fascinated by my treatments and kept reassuring me that my 'body is going through so much' at the moment and I should be brave and strong. The whole thing felt like a confidence-boosting/self-awareness meeting.

The nurse, on the other hand, wasn't so much on my good side. I must have made some snide remark to JD when they came to do a pregnancy test on me (this after explaining in detail to Doctor Gorgeous why my cycle was canceled, not because it was at all relevant, but because he was so intrigued). I know, I know it's just liability, not because they actually thought that my malformed, wimpy eggs might have stopped shrinking and when bcp were added to my cocktail, they might magically transform into super-eggs which would implant so quickly that a pregnancy test could would show up immediately positive less than 4 days post-ovulation. But the nurse would have none of it. She looked right at me and said "Honey, you better believe miracles happen" in a rather threatening tone. So there we have it. If only I believed in -that- type of miracle.

Being entirely paranoid about this cycle being canceled and taking the IF clinic's protocol very seriously to call them before taking any other meds I refused all painkillers till midnight, and only accepted tylenol thereafter. At 4 am my Catsca.n came back. Nope, not the ever-popular appendicitis. I had/have some type of intestinal blockage. Great. And a flight to NYC tonight and to Europe on Tuesday. And an allergy to the front-line meds. So that's where I left it at 4 am. Consulting with a host of doctors today. This could just be an infection, but there are a number of serious problems it could indicate, which might be just my luck. So we didn't really have our romantic evening yesterday night. In fact, JD left me at about 1 am to sleep since he had to be at work at 8 am this morning.

I'm waiting until my specialists get back to me before I notify the IF clinic.

Oh, and Fedex just wrong the doorbell with my new injections!

Pondering nothing

Well, here I am back on bcp having yet to reach that elusive 2ww which was supposed to have started by now (in fact, I was supposed to be buying a non-English pee stick somewhere across the pond in my cute little conference heels and button down shirt sometime around the end of next week ...). JD has been going out of his way to make me feel better, and since there's not much else to obsess over this week, I've been worrying about that.

JD was entirely unfazed to receive an e-mail at work that we'd been canceled. In fact, when we were 'trying on our own' (a total joke for those who have been anovulatory since age 11 endorsed heartily by large insurance companies before they tell you they're not going to cover anything anyways) I would routinely e-mail him the news. And while I find it incredible that he can nonchalantly tell me not to worry about the money and make jokes about how all this hassle is just preparation for being parents, I'm still concerned. Honestly, I'm worried that the reason he wasn't upset is that he isn't that thrilled about impending fatherhood. Focus on the impending part. He definitely wants kids someday, but it's the 'could be this year' part that I'm not sure he's excited about. He's made it clear that he understands the biology and I told him about my IF long before we started dating, so he knows why we're doing this now. But I'm worried that deep down he wouldn't mind a bit of a delay.

And maybe I wouldn't either, if it were really a possibility. I had a lot of conversations about how liberating it was for my sister (after 4 years of treatment) to find out that she could neither create nor carry a fetus, and that her only route to parenting was going to be adoption. Because of course she's going to be a better parent at age 40 than 25, and now she can chose the later without any guilt. I enjoy being a full-time student* and having a relaxed lifestyle. I like the fact that sometimes we leave the dishes in the sink for a week here (not in NYC, too many rats around). I like the fact that we can both go to the gym together in the evening. I like the fact that I can go to Europe for a week-long conference alone. It's not that I would not happily give up all of those for a baby, it's just that IF has really pushed me to give them all up immediately. Yesterday if possible. I don't want to regret the timing of that decision. And in some ways, finding out that it's not just going to be a few easy drugs to get pregnant has convinced me that we made the right decision to dive into this mess now (pre-wedding, financial stability, living together, having savings ... all the usual signs of preparation).

-------------
* Speaking of school, just when I needed it yesterday I received a little good news; I found out that I got a competitive scholarship that I wanted. It's not much money, but it was still ideal time to receive a little validation.

Not much to say, feeling better

It's been another long day, but much better than yesterday. At 8:30 pm yesterday night I remembered that I needed bcp and we went dashing out to the pharmacy, which closes at 9 pm. I went back to the clinic with JD this morning to talk to Dr. Wonderful, who made me feel immediately better. He apologized for the out-of-line nurse and explained why our current protocol has enough monitoring. And he talked about why my follicles stopped growing, and what the next couple of cycles would look like for us. It really helps me to know what all our options are up to and including IVF. It's not that I'm not positive about these cycles, but my gut keeps telling me that we aren't going to be the lucky ones where it works the first time I ovulated (that's right, I've apparently never ovulated in my life. fabulous). Of course, this cycle not only has injectables but I'm leaving the country 3 days post-ovulation. No beta for me, just a nice foreign language pee stick. Oh, if only the evil nurse knew the full extent of my audacious stress-inducing lifestyle.

That said, no more unsweetened soy milk for me. I'm cutting back to 2 servings of soy a week. So today I've been alternating between chunks of hard cheese and whitefish. Facing another 8 weeks of eggs doesn't sound too appealing at the moment, but I'll get through it. Apparently whole milk is better than skim milk, so I'm trying to find lactaid whole milk (does anyone know if it exists?) or almond milk.

And just to keep my afternoon exciting, I went to lunch and then a toddler playground (Yes, 1-day post canceling a cycle I was lounging on a bench at a toddler playground) with the wife of a co-worker of JD's. I met her in September and she asked if I wanted to do lunch sometime. And then I ran into her while shopping over the weekend, so it was hard to pretend I wasn't in town. So we met up for lunch today with her 18 month old and she told me all about her pregnancy and childbirth and being a stay at home mom. And although I'll skip the last of those 3, I was inevitably jealous of the former 2. And the ease with which she planned her pregnancy and had the baby. And the beautiful, healthy baby who loves swings and gravel and dogs. Oh well, we'll get there eventually.

Oh, and of course, I had to go with that easy line of 'Of course we want kids once we get married' when asked about our family plans. Because these are JD's coworkers and he gets to draw the lines about what we share with them.

I didn't mean to lie

So I just read http://southern-infertility.blogspot.com/ about her mother's response to her cycle, and it reminded me that I've been meaning to post for a couple of days about my mother. I messed up, and I'm not sure how to fix it. Actually, to be precise, I lied.

A little background: My mother doesn't always say the right things about IF and sometimes it annoys me, but I think that's largely because I tend to come off as detached from my medical treatments (I was completely detached and very fascinated by my stomach problems a few years back, to the point of actually enjoying my many medical exams because they were so interesting) and because she's really trying to come to terms with the idea of not having any biological grandkids of her own. I know that she wants to be as supportive as possible, and she knows that money would alleviate a lot of our stress, so she has promised to help pay for IVF, should we need it, which is great. And when I was home after my grandmother died, I had just started my new diet and she spent hours trying to find food I could eat and get me information on glycemic indexes and such. And I told her then that we were starting treatments, and she didn't seem excited. I thought it was because she was overwhelmed by her mother dying, and that it may also bring up bad memories of what my sister went through. But now I think the reason she wasn't excited is that she misunderstood.

We were talking on Sunday (before this cycle was canceled) and she asked whether the doctor was happy with my weight loss and nutritional stats, and if he thought we were ready to start a cycle. I was so blown away by the question that I must have mumbled something about 'not sure yet,' rather than explaining that we were mid-cycle. So now I've gone from miscommunication to outright lie, but not on purpose. So it's not that she's been politely avoiding asking directly about the cycle, she has no idea we did one. And now we're on to injectables and if I just call up one day and talk about injections, she's pretty clued in to know that she must have missed out on a cycle or two at least. So do I call now and tell her that we did a cycle? Wait till there's at least the possibility of some good news? What till I see her in person? I don't really want to talk to her about the details now, but I certainly never meant to obscure what we're doing. I would be so thrilled if she chatted with JD about it, but that's a lot to ask from him.

Speaking of which, he's been incredible today. All day. And he will be joining me for my 3rd 8 am appointment in a row tomorrow morning. No wonder the doctor could never see me if they schedule simultaneous ultrasounds and consults. And, the library will be open again tomorrow so I can actually do real work rather than posting all day.

Angry again

The more I think about it, the angrier I am that less than 10 minutes after my cycle was canceled (and mind you, these people are speedy: my new schedule and script for more drugs was handed to me while I was still in the stirrups, not wearing any undies) a Nurse Practitioner who I had never met before and had clearly NEVER READ MY CHART* was lecturing me about diet, and yoga, and needing anger management. Oh, and saying things like 'Well, if you fly down here clearly money isn't an obstacle so maybe you should consider quitting your job to be here full time.' (This pisses me off so much - our next month may take our entire lifetime savings. Honestly. We're young, we're just starting our careers, we'll be fine financially within 2 years but at the moment we're broke). Since I haven't given my blog address to anyone who actually knows me (and JD promised not to read it after setting it up for me), I am the type of person who gets things done, the type of person who is pretty good at hiding her anger and functioning. And that was just inappropriate. I'm sure that I'm mostly angry about the canceled cycle, but nothing lost in channeling a good deal of that anger towards this NP. And I will file a complaint tomorrow because the last thing I want is to get her in the room for my next u/s.

*I know she had never read my chart because she started into the medical version of the 'just relax' speech after I met never have heard of cort.isol before. I have at least 10 pages of lab tests devoted to my co.rtisol alone in my file. She also had no idea that I don't live in the area, and honestly recommended to me that I freeze JD's sperm and do this all alone in NYC. Now, not only does fresh sperm have a higher success rate and IUI's are inexpensive and apparently unnecessary for us, but I am not the type of girl to be doing this entirely alone over 1000 miles from my partner. And neither am I going to quit my career because of IF.

Update: Feeling much better

I did indeed propose a shotgun wedding of-sorts to JD at lunchtime, which totally cracked him up. And then he shocked me by saying he could pay for the next cycle, so not to worry about it.

So here we go again.

Since my cycle was canceled at 9am I have accomplished the following:
- scheduled a 2nd consult for 9 am tomorrow morning which JD can attend. I'm totally not thrilled by our new protocol and the total lack of injection training. We are obsessive people, we need face time with our doctor.
- called and convinced Southern clinic that my RE in NYC is plenty competent enough to do the baseline ultrasound pre-le.trozole. Then called NYC and found out RE is way too busy for that, but I can have the ultrasound done for free at my student health clinic. Scheduled that.
- Called NYC doctor to have her re-write script for 1st ultrasound
- Obsessed about foll.istim
- Obsessed even more about soy and what in the world I will eat now
- Searched on amazon for a European water-boiler so that I can cook my specialty: 8 hard-boiled eggs a day while at this conference next week ... Add in a few tablespoons of 'no sugar added' peanut butter and I should be fine for 6 days.

However, I still haven't showered or got dressed for the day. I really owe that to poor JD, who will be home from work at 6 pm. And of course, we have to run out and get more bcp's at 6 pm because I left them in NYC ...

Clearly this little failure is going in the pile with 18% success rate to be processed later.

Can't Sleep

And since the NP already labeled me a high-stress, overachiever this morning I have to admit that my mind's been racing ... to places like: why, oh why, can't we just go downtown this afternoon, get us married, and have next month's cycle covered by JD's insurance? Hm, things I probably shouldn't spring on him tonight, especially since he got the bad news about the cycle over e-mail while at work ....

Canceled

Follicles did not grow. In fact, the largest one apparently shrunk.

Combined with the following:
a lecture by the NP about how I need to try yoga or something else to relax
a long discussion among the nurses about soy (even though all I asked was whether someone could consult a doctor, preferably mine)
a 50% increase in our IF treatment cost for next month (apparently they raise prices every 6 months, who knew ...)
a script for bcp to start tonight written for the brand name only (not the generic which would save me $50)
an even larger bill for follistim for next cycle, which might just price us out of this adventure entirely

means it's been a pretty bad morning. I'm going back to bed.

Update 2: Impulse shopping

Maybe it's all cyclical, and I'm just back to the delusional point. At least we all know this isn't the first time I've been here. And today, it involves impulse shopping.

I own a lot of books (think more than 25 boxes when I moved in November), but that's because I'm a graduate student and I use those books to teach and to think broadly about my research. So what does the infertile woman do CD 13? She stops by the used book store and buys a stack of children's books. See, there is a used book store at the entrance of the public library where I work during the day (the part of it left after 2 IF appointments) and the books are mostly ex-library hardbacks priced at $1-2 per book. An excellent bargain that supports a public library in the South. And they have a wide selection of history books and books about foreign countries, and even some foreign language books.

I succesfully fended off JD's objections when I first brought home a stack of children's books in September by explaining that I was going to send them to my dear friend who is stuck on an army base abroad. But of course, JD is quite intelligent enough to notice that that stack of books is still under his sock bin in the closet. And it's about to get a lot taller. I've never had the impulse to buy children's clothes or baby blankets and never, ever set foot in a maternity store. But children's books, that's a different matter. Because somewhere in the back of my head the following arguments percolate:
a. they never go bad (although they are the pits to move, and we move a lot)
b. you can always re-gift books, especially if you buy them used to start with
c. someday I am going to have a little someone to read to (maybe not a baby if we chose the adoption route, but definitely a toddler)
d. and the books i'm buying are new and more diverse than what I had as a child. because I was one of the most spoiled children ever in terms of glorious books and dolls and blocks and playsets and puppets and pets and everything else a child could desire, and every book I ever owned is neatly boxed and waiting for grandchildren at my parent's house. in fact, my mother labeled the boxes by age in case the grandchildren pop out so quickly she doesn't have time to sort the toys ... but these are all books I didn't have as a child. I know, I remember books I've read.

The very nice elderly woman working at the store assured me that there are 4 more boxes of children's books in the back and if I come back next week I can have first pick of what's in them. Let's really hope I'm in good enough shape to do that next week.

18% isn't awful odds, really.

Update: happy patient

I went back at 11 am to see my doctor. He saw me at 12. I really like this doctor. He's the right combination of nerdy and earnest that works well for us. He seemed very happy with everything. I have lost 11 lbs since Dec. 10th. I can reintroduce some whole wheat products after ovulation (which is great because I leave for Europe again next Tuesday and this diet would have been so much worse there). My follicles look great and are right on schedule. If this cycle doesn't work, we'll do a quick cycle which I can fit in before I leave for Europe in April. He sees no point in converting to an IUI. And then we talked about my cor.tisol and he was entirely reasonable. He said that the suppression test shows that my cortis.ol functions normally, and despite all the studies that indicate stress interferes with ovulation, "every single woman I see is stressed. It's not possible to do IF treatments without being stressed." So basically I shouldn't worry about it. I feel so much better.

ps - Did I mention that he told me today that he gives us an 18% chance of succeeding on any given cycle with le.tro.zole? Still trying to wrap my head around that one.

While my ovaries sleep, I throw a temper tantrum

My follicles were deemed 'not great' and 'a bit small' this morning. Hopefully trigger on Monday. Favorite nurse showed me in to the room and promised I would see a doctor. Technician showed up for the ultrasound, assured me there was no way I would see a doctor today because "they're busy." I then tried to ask her about the diet and she told me that it's impossible to do this diet without eating meat (I do eat meat, just not a lot, and I haven't been able to force myself to eat more). Well, since I've been doing it for the past month that's not really the most helpful comment. And I knew that I needed to talk to the doctor when she suggested I reintroduce caffeine into my diet to help with the hunger. I haven't yet read the study about caffeine and miscarriage, but the evidence that it plays with insulin has been out for years.

Let me assure you, there is no possible way I'm going through a full cycle without seeing a doctor face to face. No way. I threw a loud temper tantrum, and they finally agree to squeeze me into the schedule, so it's 9:20 am, just got home, and I'll be back at 11 am to see my doctor for the first time in 2 months. Or rather, to join the large crowd in the waiting room again. The irony of choosing a clinic because you like a doctor never to see or hear from him again.

Sometimes the world revolves around my ovaries

So there was no four hour layover. The East Coast had some 'weather' over the past few days and it botched a large number of flights. I arrived in plenty of time for my flight (this is not always the case) and checked in, only to discover it was rather delayed. Not so much delayed that I would miss my 7 pm connection, by any means. But as a frequent flier, I usually go try to make a back-up plan for my travels when there are lots of delays. Well turns out due to a certain very large sporting event near JD (rednecks and cars) there was not a single open seat on a flight if I missed my connection. So I went to the gate and tried to get on the earlier flight to my layover, only to discover it was full and even the stand-by list was full. So I went back to the 'special services' area and explained to the woman that I absolutely have to be in by 8 am tomorrow morning. And she told me that my original flight was a mechanical error and the plane hadn't left its original destination, so even though the delay wasn't so bad, I shouldn't count on that plane. At that point I really started to worry. She very nicely asked what I needed to be in by 8 am for, and although I really wanted to shout "I might be ovulating!" I politely went with "Surgery, at 8 am, that couldn't be rescheduled for a full month." And I really think that she gave me a knowing look because she proceeded to book me on the sold-out earlier flight in a seat reserved for flight attendants and pilots moving between airports. Other people save their old pee-sticks, I'm saving this ticket stub for a reserved, non-available seat.

So here I am, slightly feverish from an unmedicated sinus infection, hungry, and feeling exceedingly lucky.

the things we do

I fly a lot. I love to fly. I love airplanes, I'm ok with airports. I don't enjoy it nearly as much under the following conditions:
a. weather delays
b. no sudafed (and I have the most awful cold at the moment)
c. not being able to buy so much as a coffee during my 4 hour layover ... I just packed 4 hard-boiled eggs, one chunk of no-carb cheese, 2 packets of nuts (pecans and cashews), a bag of sunflower seeds, and for a naughty treat, a tiny container of blueberries. Hope that lasts till 9 pm.

And of course, after a 1/2 day in transit, best to arrive completely and totally in the mood just in case I'm ovulating early.

such bliss

My good friend just brought her 11 day old baby over to my apartment to visit. I've never had problems with babies (pregnant women, different matter) but then we haven't been TTC for that long. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about this visit (especially after reading so many blogs) but wow, beautiful, tiny healthy baby. It's probably an awful admission, but it really reminded me that all these drugs and appointments and the awful diet really are going to be worth it. For all that I love 'the internets' it's also good to get a reminder that everything just goes well for some people. She looks great, the baby is healthy, she left the hospital within 12 hours, no problems sleeping/feeding and she looked relaxed (mind you, not a first baby and the father is home on family leave for a full month, but still). She is a bit of a superwoman: wanted to give birth in a birthing center, they didn't have a room when she showed up, offered her the regular hospital but also told her she could come back in a few hours and the woman, in full labor, went out to dinner with her partner and waited till they had a room ...

Less positive news: the baby boom in my program is much, much larger than I thought. I have 2 close friends who are pregnant and one who is adopting, hopefully this month. I thought there was one more. Nope, 5 more. One of whom I ran into on the street yesterday when she was -8 months pregnant- and I didn't notice. Good for me (this is a rather large woman, so it's not entirely my obliviousness, but still, 8 months?).

But not to end on a sour note, I'm down to my goal weight: 135. Or at least, according to the magical scale, which has a tendency to show incredible overnight weight loss. I guess I'll find out at my 8 am appointment Friday. If only I could start eating real food again. My friend, who has been nothing but supportive of our IF, pointed out the doctor will probably try to keep me on this diet for at least the first trimester ... Let's hope we have some follicles Friday.

Blame those self-centered women

I am far more understanding when poorer, less responsible newspapers have awful articles, but the NYT's? Sample 1: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/11/nyregion/11bigcity.html?ref=health (linked on the 'city' page and the 'health' page). The idea is interesting: what will the surge in IVF twins mean socially in the long term. The article: infuriating. First, it provides no really useful data on how many of the twin boon are from IVF. Plenty of other IF treatments also increase the chance of twins. I thought that it would take the trite but potentially feasible conclusion that medical technology will improve, so there will be less twins. Instead, it's straight back to blame those women with lines like: "Surely, women in their 20s today better understand that their fertility really will wane in their mid-30s ..." A few objections:

a. The high-paying jobs need to adjust to allow women to have children in their mid-20s. It's not pure self-centered indulgence that encourages women to pursue an education and career, there's that whole responsibility thing. I wouldn't chose to have a child I couldn't support on my own, should that be necessary.
b. Guys don't want to have kids in their mid-2os. Unless we really want to endorse a system where women marry men 10+ years older (and somehow battle all the potential power differentials that may result), someone needs to start nagging the men, not the women. For most of the couples I know, it's been the man who has stalled for a few years after they started the baby talk.
c. Stop making stupid comparison to Europe! Yes, they use less eggs in IVF, and they have much lower success rates. Also, since insurance covers IVF the government gets to decide who is eligible (in some countries, that means out with the single women, lesbians, anyone over 40, and the UK has been debating ousting women with a BMI above normal - so no more fat mothers either). IF treatments in Europe are generally viewed as much less of a right than here, and far fewer women have access to them. So, yes, they may have fewer twins but they also have less babies total.

Stupid articles in generally good newspapers are so annoying. Including Atl.antic Month.ly's anti-feminist cover article about settling for whatever guy you can find ... Not only does it basically argue that because men make money, women need them (yes, nothing like completely taking for granted a system with a humongous wage gender gap) but it lauds things like the divorce mother who at least has her child support and "a free night off when the kids go to Dad’s house for a sleepover." (Yes, so many divorced women think of split custody as free babysitting ...). I also love the approval of the idea that couples don't actually spend much time together, so it doesn't matter if they get along (great for the kids, eh?) And it ends with this entirely circular logic that as a single mother by choice she now can't settle because her son deserves a decent father, but of course if she had settled in her 30s and produced a biological child with a man she disliked all would be swell for that kid ... another article that is going to be way overplayed.

Sometimes I worry I'm a bit delusional

But first the good news: back into my 30s. I weighed 138 this morning, down from somewhere above 145. Of course, I'm also newly skeptical of my scale since I went to bed weighing 143 and find that a totally improbable weight loss overnight. But my scale has not been in the 130s for the past 2 years, so this can't be exclusively a technical fluke. Conclusion: I have lost some quantity of weight, possibly close to 5 pounds. Half way to my destination.

So, this afternoon I met up with my future in-laws for lunch. There is a bit of background, but the long and short is that I have a beautiful (cream) wedding dress which -is- skin-tight on the stomach but could be altered to allow a bump. However, my MIL wants me to also have a shiny, bright red skin-tight traditional-Chinese wedding dress. Every time she has offered in the past Jim Dear has staled because he doesn't want me to have a dress custom made which I might not fit into. I do see his point here, but it turns out that since graciously accepting gifts is one of my strengths, I find it hard to decline presents. When she offered yet again today (while out shopping in Chinatown), I accepted. And here's the delusional part: I had somehow completely forgotten all of JD's objections to this purchase until I heard my MIL explain to the tailor that I only planned to lose another 5-10 pounds (her words, not mine) so he shouldn't make the dress to small. And then, like a light bulb, I suddenly remembered that I was trying to get myself into a state to gain a tremendous amount of weight. And this dress is cut from a single piece and would not be in any way easy to alter or drape a shawl over or such. Oops. But the way I see it, either I get a beautiful red dress or I get incredible news, so neither outcome would be entirely disastrous.

Intriguingly, I'm not sure how much my MIL knows about our current 'secret activities.' I know that JD talked to her in the past about my IF and I know that she knows that we want kids ASAP, but she seemed to be talking around it at lunch. She said something about how difficult it would be if we moved to come help in the evenings 'when we need help.' And then she asked me explicitly if I would commute by car next January 'if I had a baby' but then didn't mention it again. If she's thinking grandchild by next January, you'd think she'd have done the math. I'd be happy to talk to her about our IF, but I think that's best left to her son (we still have some language barriers). And everything she's said has been supportive. I'm really just wondering if she knows that we've started treatment or not.

If you've read this far, you have far more patience than I would have. Sorry for the convoluted stories, my life happens to be a bit messy at the moment. But a little good news. A friend had a baby a week ago and since I'm leaving for more RE appointments on Thursday, I figured that I wouldn't get to see the baby until she's at least 3-4 weeks old, which is a bit sad. But my friend, who happens to be a bit of a superwoman (granted, this is not her first child) sent me an e-mail to ask when 'she could drop by' with the baby this week. I'm so excited.

pill poppin' day

I'm starting to get the feeling from 'the internets' that my current protocol is not the standard, most cautious procedure, but I took all my le.tro.zole tonight. And tried to think positive thoughts. I have a party to go to about an hour away, but seriously considering staying in tonight (by which I mean I've been in my pajamas since 4 pm).

It's days like today when I really wished we lived together. Jim Dear has been happy to delegate all the details of our treatment to me (something I'm not always thrilled about), but I'm sure if I told him that these meds were awful and miserable, I'd get a long massage and probably dinner in bed. Oh, and he could go out in the rain and rent a movie.

I had hoped to have good news on the diet, but not quite there yet. I started at around 145 and I was hoping to be back in the 130s after 3 weeks of hunger, but not quite. The scale's stuck on 140. Oh well. Here's to gaining it all back soon.

There seems to be a trope of bloggers whose partners object to their reading some many blogs and becoming too engrossed in other people's struggles. Mine certainly does, and wasn't too thrilled about my blog, although he finally agreed it was fine without photos or my real name. But there is something so nice about forgetting about the IF occasionally. Yesterday night I landed up at dinner next to the wife of a graduate student from another school. This is often a recipe for disaster, as you don't have much to say. But we were having a very nice conversation about the challenges of dual careers, and she asked about kids. And maybe it was the fact that this restaurant happened to have a salad I could eat, and I'd decided to splurge and consume my fish for the month (oh, eating makes me so happy when it includes forbidden foods), but I smiled and said that we wanted kids. She of course asked when, and how we'd fit that into our careers. And I just smiled and said as soon as possible (like, uh, maybe conception around next Thursday night or Friday morning would be perfect, but anyway) and that we'd figure it out. And because she doesn't know about our treatments, I didn't have to justify our decision to do IF treatments or talk about it all. And the conversation actually made me feel good. Because this is a normal thing to do, and the frustration and drugs will all be a distant memory someday if it works.

nyt's article

The last line of this article basically sums up my main concern about my new diet:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/08/health/08diabetes.html (from Friday's New Yo.rk T.imes he.alth page): "Dr. Buse said one little-discussed issue was the sheer stress of the treatment program itself ... “At some level I just wonder if some of them were just overwhelmed by this psychologically,” Dr. Buse said. “Could it be the stress of ‘I’m trying so hard, but I can’t get it done’?"

Oh, and the nauseous, listlessness, low blood sugar, inability to stay awake at night, inability to socialize over food ... I was trying to be positive about it. But even a 5 lb weight loss hasn't converted me.

trivial problems

specifically: what to drink, what to say. The good news is that I've actually lost a few pounds. The bad news is that I have no idea what to say to explain my crazy new diet. Today I had dinner with about 10 faculty members and one of them asked why I was eating such odd food (a full plate of plain lettuce and steamed brocoli, no dressing, no roll, nothing else - yum). And then commented on my weight loss later (not at all inappropriately, this is an exceedingly nice female faculty member who is always trying to be supportive).

Then, in my oh-so-exciting life, I got asked for drinks afterwards. I never was able to drink much in the past because of my stomach woes, but I'm quite good at nursing a beer. And at least in the recent months when I was avoiding alcohol (purely because of wishful thinking) I could have a diet coke. Now, with no caffeine, sugar, or alcohol I could order .... well, I guess a diet sprite, if I was sure they weren't going to substitute a non-diet one. Or a water. It's hard to go to a bar and order a water (especially when they always make a point of paying for my food/drinks) without raising questions. So what do I say?

Well, today, I caved and went with that truly awful, anti-feminist, stereotypical barbie-doll answer that I was 'dieting for my wedding.' Which is a joke. People who know me know that I'm pretty confident with all my curves, and the last thing I'm likely to do is starve myself to look pretty for a photograph. I bought my dress so it fits, and it looks good on all my curves. I cracked up when my photographer offered to airbrush away some of my curves. And I HATE that answer. But to explain that I'm 'insulin resistant but not diabetic' and thus on a new diet also doesn't ring so true, and plenty of these people could read through that. So short of saying I'm TTC, I can't think of any decent excuses. I have played it up a few times as 'My doctor is trying this crazy new diet to see what it does' (which worked great yesterday night at dinner when I ate spinach with a hard boiled egg and no-sugar dressing. Ugh) but I feel bad deceiving people, and I really do think there's something wonderful about being open about your struggles. This is an issue that needs awareness. But given that these are people who are invested in my career, which will clearly be affected by these decisions (not necessarily negatively, but scheduling-wise definitely), I'm not sure that they're the right people to be in on our 'dirty little secret.' So I guess I'll channel my dear stay-at-home-wife friend who waited till her wedding day to be kissed (really) and had to be sewn into her wedding dress because she hadn't eaten for weeks before the 'big' day ... we'll have to see what else my inner barbie doll can be useful for ...

a little sympathy

My thoughts are a bit rambling on this subject, but I figure writing them down might help. I luckily haven't had to miss enough school/work to be forced to tell anyone about our IF who I didn't want to, but I have told a small group of friends (Jim Dear hasn't yet, I'm not thrilled about that, see my post on my many 'dentist appointments'). Thus far, what has really stood out is that nobody really knows what to say, and more than just being awkward, they really don't get what a loss/struggle this is for us. Nobody has said anything even close to 'That sucks. I'm sorry you have to go through this.' The responses I have got fall into 3 categories. My friends with babies basically say 'Yay. Welcome to the mommy club.' Which doesn't always make me feel the best. My guy friends tend to squirm and say something along the lines of 'Good luck' and 'That's why you're not drinking.' It's my female friends who are the most judgmental, and I'm guessing that a lot of that comes from being in their mid-20s and having been overwhelmed with the idea that they ought to feel guilty about either not wanting kids or not wanting them now. Honestly, if we hadn't known about all these problems, I doubt we would have started TTC by now. But really, my decision is not a critique of their lives, and given how easily most of my friends have gotten pregnant, and how confident they have been that there wouldn't be any problems (3 friends got pregnant the first month they tried, one of whom also posted a photo of her with her home p. test THE DAY SHE TOOK IT on her blog) I don't see why they are quite so defensive. The questions are pretty in your face: are we really ready, is this a mutual decision, maybe we just aren't meant to have kids (I really don't get this one. No one told me I was supposed to have rabbit teeth when I got braces, and thus far I have to admit our IF has been a lot less physically painful than my 4 years of braces ... and thus far cheaper), and of course, have we considered adoption.

Um, people, think about it. I'm 26, unmarried, commuting between a loft and a one-bedroom apartment, neither of us have a stable job yet ... nobody in the world is going to hand us a beautiful baby to raise. I don't love it, but I understand why most agencies require you to have been married for a certain amount of time (although I hate how this discriminates against couples that can't marry), to pass home inspections, and to pay all the processing fees. And yes, if adoption is our best route to parenthood, of course we'll go for.* In about 5-6 years, when it becomes a possibility. But really, these people 'fix' all sorts of 'minor' medical problems and yet they seem to think that we should even try IF treatments.

The one thing I'm worried about is that the friends I have told, in an attempt to be supportive, are going to ask the wrong questions. The truth is that I already have a fairly substantial beer gut (don't worry, no new beer, it's just the leftovers from college hanging around my tummy) that happens to look just like my friend's 3 month bump and since I'm not drinking, etc. I get asked pretty often whether I'm p. At the moment, it's fine and I can just say no. But I don't want to go around telling people during the first trimester, so I have been trying to send some signals not to ask about it. I know we're a high miscarriage risk, and although I'm sure these friends would be supportive if we had to deal with something like that, I can't know in advance if I'll really feel like talking about it. But I also don't want to make them feel awkward because even if they aren't saying the right things, they're trying to be good friends.

* I would love to adopt whether I can carry a pregnancy or not because I want a big family and I doubt that I'll be up for IF treatments if I'm also caring for a child. And Jim Dear is open to the idea, but would rather we start with one of our own. And we don't have to fight about it because it's not an option in the near future.

the awful diet

Just a quick note to say that I have resolved to actually cook food I can eat, rather than go hungry. And I have brought out my most-beloved kitchen appliance: my extra-large crockpot. Yes, I know, crockpots really belong in the 1950s with hearty milkshakes. But it's incredibly delightful to throw some stuff in the pot in the morning and come back from the library in the evening to an apartment smelling of spices and meat (I wish, wish, wish I had a dairy crockpot but that is not to be for the moment largely because of shelf limitations ...). And I figure that most crockpot recipes you can just substitute more meat for all the carbs. For example, tonight I will be eating a version of moussaka which basically comes down to layers of eggplant and beef with some onions, spices, and a little tomato sauce thrown in. Tomorrow I think I'll make turkey-corn chowder (going very, very light on the corn, of course. maybe I'll substitute tofu ...). And then, after dinner, I'm off to a Super Tuesday party. I guess I'll have to bring snacks.

more travel tales and my diet

Things that do not go well together: travel and dieting. I realized on the plane yesterday night that excluding a long weekend in NYC after returning from Europe, I haven't slept in the same place for more than 2 nights in over 3 weeks (not all of that is my fault, Jim Dear decided we should 'get away' this weekend which involved 8 hours of driving over 2 days to a new city, but it was worth it). And as I was torn apart by airport security yet again yesterday night (and specifically as they pulled out my large array of pills), I kept thinking about the scene in James and the Giant Peach where the mysterious little old man shows James the magical worm-like things and tells him something to the extent of 'drink them up all up immediately and wonderful things will start to happen.' And of course, we all know what happened when James spilled the contents of the magical bag ... (I really wanted to grab my pills away from the idiot examining them and tell him something about my rights as a woman not to have my medical history put on display for the world, although in fact security was empty at the time). I'm genuinely shocked to find that IF treatments have made me an optimist, at least for now. I really do think there's a good chance that all this low-grade treatment will work sometime soon. Not so much Jim Dear who rather woefully remarked in the car yesterday 'This is the end of my life.' Oh well, at least he's honest. And clearly that's not his opinion all the time.

So, dieting. It's torture. My RE firmly believes that controlling insulin levels is critical for PCOs women, and especially during a cycle. So I cannot eat any of the following:
- caffeine
- sugar
- flour, rice, pasta, potatoes, carrots, corn
- alcohol
- and I've decided to restrict my salmon and tuna for the moment
Throw in the usual kosher restrictions, and I really can't find enough to eat. My standard day:
breakfast: 2 hard boiled eggs
1 chunk of hard cheddar (no carbs)
snack: apple, nuts
lunch: salad with tofu
snack: another hard boiled egg or unsweetened soy milk or berries or nuts again
dinner: meat, when I can find something kosher
otherwise brocoli, miso soup with tofu, more eggs

And here's the absurd part: I'm hungry non-stop and I haven't lost a single pound. Of course, I'm not actually trying to lose weight (since the whole point of this exercise is a condition which will necessitate weight gain), but it would be a nice sign that it's doing something. I simply can't think of enough things to eat. I can't eat out at all except for omelettes or salad because I can't eat meat out, and there are very few restaurants that have vegetarian protein options. Any suggestions would be much, much appreciated.

Also, a small part of me has to wonder whether making me feel miserable is really creating the ideal situation for this cycle. I feel nauseous about 1/3 of the time, I lose a least 1/4 of what I eat to upset stomaches, and I must be running really low on nutrients and calcium by this point. Of course, had I actually seen the doctor on Friday I could have asked him, but I only saw the technician and a very incompetent secretary who kept telling me that 'this procedure' required surgery. I finally threw a fit and they had to send in a nurse to mediate and clue her in. I felt a bit bad because she told me she'd only been working there 2 weeks, but it's a fertility clinic, she needs to be a bit sensitive.

just relax

I almost forgot. Right before my mother dropped me at the airport (at 8 pm, we were up and working on cleaning up my grandmother's place before 8 am) she said: "Remember, you need to relax. It's not going to work if you're stressed." Luckily, she's plenty clued in enough not to be saying 'Just relax' and you'll get pg. If 4 years and almost a 1/2 million dollars couldn't do it for my sister, my mom knows we need help. Nope, I actually do need to relax because my cor.tisol is sky high and that could easily thwart all these fine drugs going into my system. I'll try to squeeze that in sometime. Nothing like a 'just relax' comment to make you stressed. And of course, on the way out of the examine room, the technician said 'Don't forget to keep up that diet.' Great. I'm tired, hungry, and stressed about being stressed. Time for lunch, which will only cheer me up if I can keep it in my system. It's a good thing Jim Dear is meeting me for lunch, that should help a lot.

so many dentist appointments ...

1 mad dash through Atlanta's Hartfield airport got me (but not my suitcase which is still in transit) to my delayed flight which arrived at 1:15 am, which left my plenty of time to make my 8 am ... dentist appointment? So Jim Dear happens to work at a job with no vacation days at all. Not at one. They apparently accrue after 12 months, and hopefully he won't be there that long. But after getting phone calls from my sister all alone in her clinic with bad news and because I think we really need to be in this together not just emotionally but physically, I have decided that he should accompany me to appointments whenever possible. And since we're not married and all and this is a rather conservative place, in addition to the fact that he hasn't told too many of his friends or colleagues about our endeavors, we needed an excuse for him to miss work. Ta da: cavities, bad fillings, plaque issues, gum problems ... I seem to have developed a whole list of dental problems which have to be dealt with here. Cracks me up when his co-workers are so impressed that I'm willing to go out to lunch with them only 2 hours after having a filling done. And I really don't look that bad for having such rotten teeth. Plus, it gives us the perfect excuse if I need to bow out of some evening event - dental worker can be quite painful (I've heard, having never so much as had a cavity in my life). So at our 'dental appointment' this morning all the news was good: no follicles, thin lining, we're set for let.ro.zole in 8 days!