Friday, September 29, 2006

So much for karma

Have I mentioned (lately) how much I hate my family doctor?
She is at the top of my list of people I blame for my current state of infertileness.

You may, or may not, recall that when we first started 'trying' (long forgotten halcyon days where we thought sex lead to babies- ha!) I went to see her to make sure everything was alright. Blood tests were ordered. I was proclaimed healthy. "That's interesting" she said looking at my chart "we have the same birthday".

Months go by. Nothing is happening but there's an odd pain in my pelvic area.
It's nothing, she says. Maybe an ovarian cyst. They go away on their own. Take tylen*l or naproxen.
Many weeks later and the pain has gotten steadily worse. I am taking naproxen every few hours.
Well...she suggests. We could order an ultrasound.
She helpfully schedules an ultrasound for 2 months later.
In those months, a huge endometrioma is developing and swallowing up my ovary.

She looks at the ultrasound results and suggests we 'check-up' on it a few weeks later.
Another month of waiting. The pain killers are not doing anything. I spend hours at my office lying under my desk because the pain is so bad.
And the endometrioma is growing. The follow-up ultrasound shows that it's almost 10cm in size. Imagine a grapefruit..on your ovary.

Due to my family doctor's helpful advice and watchful waiting, I will end up in surgery and four days later leave minus one and a half ovaries.

So, you know where this goes right?

I just saw her. Walking down the street. Smiling.
She is hugely pregnant.

We share the same fucking birthday. How nice.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Follow-up conversation

Conversation with my co-worker/employee this morning.
Goes something like this:

Me: How're you doing?
L: Alright, I suppose.
Me: It's not easy.
L: No.
My brother just told us his girlfriend is pregnant.
Me. Your brother? The one who embezelled money from your grandparents, dropped out of highschool and now works as a prison guard?
L: Yup.
Me: So unfair.
L: And I found out yesterday that my good friend S is pregnant.
Me: S? The hairdresser with the out-of-work boyfriend who she lives with in a damp basement apartment with no furniture?
L: Yup.
Me: Of course.
L: Figures
Me: Figures

Poor girl. I'm feeling so sorry for her. It's almost overshadowing how sorry I feel for myself.