Notes and queries

Item – Dear all, especially those of you that delurked to express your concern and outrage over the whole (grr! Argh!) NHS appointments debacle, you are all quite right and the Thing To Do would be to make an almighty MP-involving fuss, both about the balls-up and about the ridiculous lack of doctors and clinics and such to treat Recurrent Miscarriages.

Item – I, however, am fighting through a slough of exhaustion, depression, period-induced misery and anaemia, weight-loss, family-being-difficult, work sucking out my brain and soul. I do not have the strength or time or anything else, really, to be fighting the good fight up and down the political systems of Britain. When I am, say, 40, and have given up on all this crap and accepted my childless state, perhaps then I will have the time and righteous zeal to go forth and smite mightily on behalf of my Sistren-and-associated-brethren. Now, I barely have enough me left to keep myself and my marriage going without going postal at work. I don’t have enough me to do my creative writing course, or any creative writing at all, or to enjoy most of my hobbies, or even read Big Interesting Books properly.

Item – Yes, I know I very clearly need a good counsellor/therapist. I haven’t found one yet. I have a short-list. It’s progress. Admittedly, at this rate, by the time I settle on one the whole question will be moot because I will be 97, but still.

Item – About the piss-poor infertility treatment lottery and the even more piss-poor miscarriage treatment lottery in Britain, even I, who am doing both because I am gifted like that, think that really, holding up the NICE gold standard of 2 free goes of IVF to all (NB, just because NICE says so, doesn’t mean your NHS trust is doing as it’s told, ohhh no. You may find they think little magic water pills* are a better use of your taxes) and yet being so utterly shit at looking after women who miscarry over and over again, is a cretinous set-up. For example, whenever we do speak to a gynaecologist (you Americans call the REs, we call them gynaecologists who specialise in infertility or reproduction. Your way is possibly better, because our lot are fucking morons about endocrinological reasons for infertility) he or she pushes Getting Pregnant, specifically IVF, as the thing to do. So, wasting thousands of your actual pounds to get a woman who can get pregnant, pregnant, but not having anything at all to offer in terms of keeping her pregnant, is the way to go. (We wouldn’t be having PGD or ICSI because we’re both chromosonally normal. Ha ha ha ha ha). This makes me crazy.

Item – And anyway, I’m still too fat for IVF. Do you know why? Because I keep getting pregnant. Fuckin’ A.

Item – On a cheerier note, I tried on all my summer-weight trousers and they all still fit, so the half-stone of double-miscarriage misery weight is not the sartorial disaster I was fearing it to be. I could do with a smidgeon less lard about the waist-band, to make sitting down in comfort all that more achievable, but still. I lost two pounds last week (I probably found them again last night, what with the Ben&Jerry’s Chocolate Macademia and the *cough* many *cough* glasses of white wine. What can I say? I’m on holiday).

Item – The Cute Ute has discovered a new fun game. Bleeding slows down to spotting and stops. Hurrah! Only, wait for it, it hasn’t! Blood everywhere! I mop up, in a fury. Cute Ute stops haemorrhaging at once, looking all ‘who, me?’ innocent. Wait 14 hours. Rinse. Repeat. It’s only day 7, so I’m not freaked out, as such, but I will be if that sodding useless piece of rusting out-of-warranty deformed junk doesn’t Cease and Desist in short order.

Item – For my 40th birthday, I shall be giving myself the increasingly appealing gift of a hysterectomy. So bloody there.

* If you are a firm believer in homeopathy, good for you. But not on my bloody NHS until they agree to do some proper double-blind controlled trials and FUCKING PROVE IT. It might not be wise to get into an argument with me about ‘orthodox scientific methodology’ being ‘too restrictive’ or ‘not getting the fundamental holistic basis of homeopathic treatment’. I am the child and daughter-in-law of homeopaths. I have read the research on both sides. I have read the trials on both sides. I have been stuffed full of little magic water pills myself (did they work? Do you see any babies round here? Well then). The trials could easily be set up to allow for placebo effects and for proper full-length consultations and for variable prescribing, and the scientists have frequently said so. The fact that the Homeopaths keep claiming the trials won’t be makes the Homeopaths look… flakey. Also, running scared. I would do links, but I’m hungover and it’s Sunday. Google is your friend. Ignore any and all articles by the Daily Mail or published on a homeopathic practicioner’s website. Take one Ben Goldacre for every three ‘Scientists hate us’. You may have noticed that the entire subject makes me extremely cross. Sorry about that.
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11 responses to “Notes and queries

  • QoB

    This is how I feel about homeopathy:

    I also once had a homeopathic adherent tell me antibiotics were poison while I was suffering from an appalling strep throat. It was a good thing I couldn’t talk at the time, because I would have told her to bite me. I settled for fantasising about slapping her with my bottle of amoxicillin.
    I think the jury is still out on other ‘alternatives’ (acupuncture among them).

    If you’re not able to muster the troops and write angry letters, perhaps we can? seriously, I’m sure between the group mind we can come up with a very strongly-worded letter indeed.

    • May

      Well, yes, antibiotics are poison. To NASTY BACTERIA. Is the point of antibiotics. Honestly, some adherents are so… dim? Is ‘dim’ fair?

      • QoB

        ‘dim’ is fair. also ‘deluded’ and ‘wilfully ignorant’, in some cases.
        let’s set Dara O’Briain on them…

  • Z

    I don’t really have anything to say other than, well it’s shit isn’t it? And I’m really sorry you’re going through this shite. The system sucks.

  • a

    My in-laws are on a homeopathy and a “the environment is full of ‘toxins’ and chemicals and it is killing us” kick. I just want to smack them and tell them that it’s genetic predisposition that probably caused my FIL to have cancer…just like it was genetic predisposition to cause my father to have rheumatoid arthritis and heart disease. Certainly, unhealthy eating didn’t help my dad, but odds were pretty good that he was going to die the same way no matter how he lived. Hell, he also had the genetic predisposition to live to 98 like his father…but the other one won. Sorry – don’t mean to rant…you can also check the Science Based Medicine blog for fun.

    I can’t really blame the NHS for their lack of adequate treatment – I believe that there are really only a few ideas on what causes recurrent miscarriage, and they don’t really know what to do with you. We expect doctors to be scientists and puzzle solvers who want to figure out what’s wrong with you and how to fix it. In truth, they’re usually figuring out the quickest way to get you out of their office with minimal effort. (I’ve seen this in many venues…not just reproductive issues) Sigh… more ranting.

    Lets see…um…brighter note…Glad your clothes still fit!

  • manapan

    Wow. Only 7 pounds of misery weight? You’re good. And I… um… will be at the gym if you need to find me. 😛

  • Hannah

    Just wanted to chime in with the others and commiserate. Even on the other side of the pond, when all you can find are doctors who “don’t know what to do for you”, whether they admit it or not, it sucks. And I understand the hysterectomy fantasies too. . . Hang in there, May.

  • The cheerleader

    H needs to do the writing – it’s when you are totally unable to do anything to help yourself that someone else needs to step in. Don’t add ‘write letter’ to the guilt/stress pile.

  • Betty M

    So with you on the homeopaths – and most other woo mongers too although I may be reading too much Ben G, Orac etc for my own good.

  • korechronicles

    Oh May, dear May, I so, so hear you on the alternative medicine front. When I was going through the pain filled, blood filled, hell that is adenomyosis and all its evil handmaidens of suffering, I have to admit I let my hippy, dippy, never-let-a-doctor-near-you-even-when-you-are dying mother talk me into trying a variety. And, to be fair, some worked. But only ever for a short time and then I was back in the bleed-for-17-days cycle of agony with only five days a month off for good behaviour.

    I remember wanting to say to my mother that if I ever fell down the steps at work and broke a leg I would not be heading to the homeopath and thinking positive thoughts to manifest healing. But I lacked the courage. And I was 42 at the time.

    I’m sorry it’s so shit for you and H. If I ran the universe I would turn it all around for you in a heartbeat.

    Wish I had so little misery weight to work off.

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