Daily Archives: February 10, 2009

In which I scream very crossly indeed for quite some minutes.

Do you know what? I’m actually glad that I’ll be doing NHS IVF at a different Health Care Trust. Because I have had it to here with this lot. No, I still haven’t heard from Miss Consultant. Of course I haven’t. I’ve only been calling for three weeks now. Why on earth should she get back to me in three weeks? It’s not urgent. I’m not dying. Since when does she give a monkeys’ either way if I do or do not respond to 50mg of Clomid? I left another message on her Secretary’s answerphone today. Secretary did not get back to me.

I think homicide is sometimes justifiable. I read that somewhere.

To all American readers now completely freaked out about socialised medicine, don’t be. I am fairly sure that my clinic are abnormally negligent, because I live in an area renowned, fucking RENOWNED, people, for the absolute shiteness of its NHS Trust, expecially with regard to gynecology and obstetrics. Nearly all the other ones are better. I promise.

But I can’t move house because each Trust starts you off at the bottom of the list again.

Anyway, I have an appointment with Miss Consultant on the 25th of February, and Words Will Be Said about this. About how I could be half-way through cycle 5 by now if she’d only responded the first time I tried to get some kind of guidance as to what to do next. About how amazingly frustrating it is to spend so much time in limbo when your 34th birthday is charging you down like a rhino and then it will be a year, a whole year, since you’ve been pregnant. About what is the point of being someone’s fertility consultant if you never ever answer calls and queries – are we trying to get people pregnant here, or just fannying about? Word chosen advisedly, before you ask.

Do consultants take the blindest notice of Words Said? Or Written? Would there be any point above and beyond venting?

(I had a grouchy little fantasy, this week, in which I was freakin’ hospitalised with something Unmonitored Clomid related. And then I sued her. And won. Hah hah).

Would it be pointless and stupid to take the provera anyway, and try another round of 50mg of Clomid, with or without Miss Consultant’s input? Because if on the 25th she asks me ‘why have you only done one round of Clomid since I last saw you?’ I will scream and cry and carry on. I will. And I will get written off as a neurotic hysteric and it won’t help anything in the slightest.