A year ago today...
I was starting Clomid treatment to see if the doctor could get some eggs to appear in my ovaries so I could hopefully have a child one day... now we all know the outcome of this treatment- but I think taking time to remember what I went through and all my fears is still important.
Caden is the best thing to ever happen to me- ever. But I can still remember the feeling of not knowing if anything would work.. all the tests, the waiting and the diagnosis. Dad had some slow swimmers, and I just don't work right. Getting the diagnosis of PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome) was not the best day in my short life. It happened after one of my many (5-8) trips to ER for un-diagnosable abdominal pain. The worst pain I have ever had in my life- it would come at random, almost always at night and I would end up in the ER with them suggesting it was something else and getting shipped home with yet another referral to a specialist.
Three colonoscopies and one surgery later and they were able to find a Meckels diverticula- incredibly rare and almost always in boys under the age of five?!- and they removed it from my intestine. The only diagnosis they could give after that was IBS- Irritable Bowel, yes, like what Ben Stiller character in Along Came Polly has, except I don't quite have that level. IBS is a catch all diagnosis for a stomach problem that they can't pin on anything else. I was told I had fibroids on my ovaries, I didn't ovulate, I had a low blood pressure, dizzy spells, dehydration all the time- it just seemed like every visit left me with more problems! The most memorable trip to the ER was one that I went in at about ten pm- I was hurting... they wanted a pelvic exam, a CT scan and bloodwork and decided to give me some morphine for pain. I got the morphine and was shipped off to CT. I got onto the CT table, got scanned and when I went to get back in my bed, I was turning green- the tech was rushing for a trashcan and I told him I wasn't going to puke, I just felt really funny. By the time I got to my room I felt flushed, and my husband came in to see me. I told him I was itchy- and wouldn't you know broke out in hives- out of no where. Not ten seconds later I feel like I swallowed a bunch of cotton balls- it was like my throat was closing up. I desperately looked ta my husband and said "I can't...." and I was out. I woke up the next morning at home.
Now, what happened is called anaphylaxis- obviously my body and morphine don't play well together. After I passed out, my husband yelled for a nurse, who came in and said I was having a panic attack... now this did not sit well with my medically trained hubby and he voiced his opinion. For my "panic attack" said nurse came back with some benadryl (allergy med?????) and versed (something that knocks you out COLD- and oddly enough has a white-out effect in that when you get it, you forget the few minutes prior to getting it!). This all came during the visit that my doctor specifically asked for me to be monitored overnight because at that point in time they suspected that the tubes going from my kidneys were blocked and I had yet another bladder infection. They didn't keep me overnight, and they didn't explain to my husband what they diagnosed me with. I happened to be looking over the five pages of discharge papers the next day and asked him why PCOS had a red star next to it- he had no idea and then tried to say I put it there... yes I tend to star random things when drugged into a stupor!
When I followed up with my doctor- who was not happy that the ER doc didn't follow any of her instructions or explain anything to me, she told me I had PCOS. This is a disease that does not allow you to make eggs on your own. Basically you can go weeks, months, years without ever ovulating- which would explain the problems I have had since 15 that doctors kept sweeping under the rug. This diagnosis also meant that the chances of me winning the mega millions were higher than the chances of me conceiving on my own. I made an appointment with my regular OB/GYN and she told me that the sooner I saw a fertility specialist the better. My heart sank.
I made an appointment with the fertility specialist, and counted down the minutes to that appointment. My mind was riddled with all the possibilities- how far would we be willing to go- IVF? what if we couldn't, what if we had multiples? The questions were endless and there were many restless nights. It is hard to describe the emotions you have when you are unsure if you can do the most natural thing... I mean girls get knocked up everyday right? Why does it have to be so hard for me? After meeting our new doctor and her staff, we were amazed at just how welcoming and amazing they were. We had a plan- alot of tests went into that plan- but we had a plan, and after every step we re-visited the plan, All my questions were answered and two days after St. Patrick's Day I got to see those two pink lines. Things really do work out- just not always in the way you expect them to. It's a hard thing to accept, and a concept I am obviously still struggling with today- but my little man gave me hope that sometimes the road less taken really is the right path. I am still struggling with some medical issues- but seeing him growing and healthy after thinking that I would never be able to have kids is what gets me through each day.
Caden is the best thing to ever happen to me- ever. But I can still remember the feeling of not knowing if anything would work.. all the tests, the waiting and the diagnosis. Dad had some slow swimmers, and I just don't work right. Getting the diagnosis of PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome) was not the best day in my short life. It happened after one of my many (5-8) trips to ER for un-diagnosable abdominal pain. The worst pain I have ever had in my life- it would come at random, almost always at night and I would end up in the ER with them suggesting it was something else and getting shipped home with yet another referral to a specialist.
Three colonoscopies and one surgery later and they were able to find a Meckels diverticula- incredibly rare and almost always in boys under the age of five?!- and they removed it from my intestine. The only diagnosis they could give after that was IBS- Irritable Bowel, yes, like what Ben Stiller character in Along Came Polly has, except I don't quite have that level. IBS is a catch all diagnosis for a stomach problem that they can't pin on anything else. I was told I had fibroids on my ovaries, I didn't ovulate, I had a low blood pressure, dizzy spells, dehydration all the time- it just seemed like every visit left me with more problems! The most memorable trip to the ER was one that I went in at about ten pm- I was hurting... they wanted a pelvic exam, a CT scan and bloodwork and decided to give me some morphine for pain. I got the morphine and was shipped off to CT. I got onto the CT table, got scanned and when I went to get back in my bed, I was turning green- the tech was rushing for a trashcan and I told him I wasn't going to puke, I just felt really funny. By the time I got to my room I felt flushed, and my husband came in to see me. I told him I was itchy- and wouldn't you know broke out in hives- out of no where. Not ten seconds later I feel like I swallowed a bunch of cotton balls- it was like my throat was closing up. I desperately looked ta my husband and said "I can't...." and I was out. I woke up the next morning at home.
Now, what happened is called anaphylaxis- obviously my body and morphine don't play well together. After I passed out, my husband yelled for a nurse, who came in and said I was having a panic attack... now this did not sit well with my medically trained hubby and he voiced his opinion. For my "panic attack" said nurse came back with some benadryl (allergy med?????) and versed (something that knocks you out COLD- and oddly enough has a white-out effect in that when you get it, you forget the few minutes prior to getting it!). This all came during the visit that my doctor specifically asked for me to be monitored overnight because at that point in time they suspected that the tubes going from my kidneys were blocked and I had yet another bladder infection. They didn't keep me overnight, and they didn't explain to my husband what they diagnosed me with. I happened to be looking over the five pages of discharge papers the next day and asked him why PCOS had a red star next to it- he had no idea and then tried to say I put it there... yes I tend to star random things when drugged into a stupor!
When I followed up with my doctor- who was not happy that the ER doc didn't follow any of her instructions or explain anything to me, she told me I had PCOS. This is a disease that does not allow you to make eggs on your own. Basically you can go weeks, months, years without ever ovulating- which would explain the problems I have had since 15 that doctors kept sweeping under the rug. This diagnosis also meant that the chances of me winning the mega millions were higher than the chances of me conceiving on my own. I made an appointment with my regular OB/GYN and she told me that the sooner I saw a fertility specialist the better. My heart sank.
I made an appointment with the fertility specialist, and counted down the minutes to that appointment. My mind was riddled with all the possibilities- how far would we be willing to go- IVF? what if we couldn't, what if we had multiples? The questions were endless and there were many restless nights. It is hard to describe the emotions you have when you are unsure if you can do the most natural thing... I mean girls get knocked up everyday right? Why does it have to be so hard for me? After meeting our new doctor and her staff, we were amazed at just how welcoming and amazing they were. We had a plan- alot of tests went into that plan- but we had a plan, and after every step we re-visited the plan, All my questions were answered and two days after St. Patrick's Day I got to see those two pink lines. Things really do work out- just not always in the way you expect them to. It's a hard thing to accept, and a concept I am obviously still struggling with today- but my little man gave me hope that sometimes the road less taken really is the right path. I am still struggling with some medical issues- but seeing him growing and healthy after thinking that I would never be able to have kids is what gets me through each day.
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