Item – Bullshit week is still bullshit. I woke with a migraine this morning, and just had to go back to bed and put my face in the pillows and wonder who rammed this red-hot skewer up my sinus and why? Why? Why would they do such a thing? What am I, an upside-down Edward II? Skewer has finally cooled down, and I have just found several major errors in the knitting I was (idiotically) attempting in the luke-warm phase.
Item – So, Dr Expensive’s results so far. I feel very much like a woman with a can-opener, a tin labelled ‘best quality fisherman’s bait!’, and a startled expression on discovering that this wasn’t a jokey name for spaghetti hoops. Basically, I probably have an auto-immune problem, I don’t make the right sort of antibodies on encountering H’s DNA, and I may or may not be producing silly levels of NK cells, though as Thalia pointed out, who knows if I’m producing them in my uterus lining? And as Wombattwo pointed out, who knows if this information is even relevant? Has anyone checked if women with ‘normal’ fertility and miscarriage rates get these sorts of results? And to cap it all, the ‘treatments’ on offer are expensive, experimental, under-researched, and in the case of LIT, actually banned in the USA. Oh, thank you Universe, for this clear and simple answer to all my problems.
Item – Anyway, it’s not exactly Decision Time, as we’re still waiting for my thyroid panel results, H’s DNA fragmentation results (I can’t believe that the clinic has two separate, different views of my Dad’s place in its wankatoria. Poor H (Also? The bit about the stuck-together pages in the ‘helpful’ literature? AAIIEEE)), and for my next period to roll around so I can send them a small amount of my uterine lining via FedEx, the very idea of which still strikes me as hilariously inappropriate… “Freshly gathered, carefully mixed with purest saline solution, chilled and couriered expressly across the city, this isn’t just any menstrual blood. This is May’s menstrual blood…”
Item – H, I think, is far more gung-ho than I am about these treatments. As he points out, we do have the money (what the hell else did we save so much for? he points out, gazing pointedly around the hovel we live in), and he is pretty damn keen on the idea of our own biological children (I see his point. We both have beautiful ears. It’d be a criminal waste to let such ears vanish from the human records). Me? I want more science, and I want not to miscarry again, especially not expensively, and I want my uterus to stop hurting me (also, I want an iPad, knee-boots, a kitten and a personal assistant).
Item – I am going to dinner with my brother, and sister-in-law, and my Dad and stepMum this weekend. I am dreading it. I’d love to see my brother and SIL, and stepMum, but Dad is, well, Dad. If he pulls the ‘your mother is a greedy money-grabbing whore’, or the ‘people used to lose babies all the time in the old days and it never bothered them‘ conversation gambits, I will calmly get up, kiss everyone else goodbye, and leave. It is only by holding on to this resolution with iron determination that I can face this visit at all. Yay families!