Item – I’ve answered the final question at last (sorry, Womb for Improvement) on the 666 post, and I think that’s the lot. Please, please poke me if I’ve missed your question. I promise totally it was absence of mind, not avoidance of subject.
Item – I finally managed to nail down a receptionist at the GP’s (phones, they will not answer them. The one quirk in an otherwise excellent practice) to book a telephone appointment with a nurse, who will tell me whether or not I am anaemic and what to do about it at some point tomorrow morning. It all seems a tad convoluted, but clearly they must cater to patients who are hard of thinking and silly about Dr Google as well as to the Genius That Is Me. Also, Sod’s Law dictates the nurse will call me while I am up to my oxters in something complicated or in a meeting. Of course.
Item – Meanwhile, I am taking over-the-counter iron supplements, wotthehell wotthehell, and if it is anaemia, they are not cutting the bedamned mustard, in that I am still knackered, easily out of breath, prone to faintness, and inclined to occasional Restless Legs when tired of an evening.
Item – Restless Legs are not fucking funny. They’re driving me batshit. MUST. KICK. STRETCH. AIGH.
Item – It is 6dpo, for those of you keeping count and giving a monkey’s. Ovulation-wise, my last nine cycles have gone day 19, 18, 20, 22, 19, 21, 19, 17, 18. It’s got to the point where I even predict what week my period may well turn up before I ovulate. Something Is Bound To Go Wrong.
Item – On my last post, Carole comments:
Clearly ovulating at all IS a big plus, but I wish they would start taking some proper notice of the lateness of said ovulation. I’m still convinced that it was the main factor in my problems. Like you, I was always popping them out at about day 18/19 or even later and like you, I seemed to get to the pregnancy launch-pad considerably more often that one would think, given actual results. Then they hit me with the drugs and after the initial ”mutiny and general blow-up”, my ovaries fell into line and assumed text-book timing for the two normal cycles it took to hit the jackpot (Which they have maintained to this day, incidently, although it’s not worth them bothering anymore).
But Carole, I have been ‘hit with the drugs’. I did six Clomid cycles in 2008/2009. On the first one, I ovulated on day 25, no earlier than I do flying solo, and my luteal phase was still only 12 days. On the second, I ovulated on day 17, got pregnant, and miscarried at six weeks. On the third, I ovulated on day 18, and my luteal phase lasted only 12 days. On the fourth, I did not ovulate. At all. Cycle lasted 88 days and I took provera to end it. On the fifth, on a higher dose of Clomid, I… did not ovulate. Again, took provera eventually, cycle ended after 65 days. On the sixth go, I ovulated on day 44, which we all agreed clearly had fuck-all to do with the clomid I’d taken nearly six weeks beforehand. Short luteal phase, not pregnant. After six clomid cycles, three of them utter, utter duds despite the increasing dosage, I don’t get to do that kind of drug any more. On the NHS, six clomid cycles is your limit, because Clomid is not a tame drug, oh no. My ovary has been beaten enough. And since when, I’ve ovulated anywhere from day 8 to day 65, so it hasn’t bought a post-beating harmony to my endocrine system either.
Item – The one thing (damn it!) my gynaecologist has been right about is that if I lost weight my cycles would regulate. I lost a stone (14 lbs/6.5 kgs), and ta da! my cycles are regular. The idea is, if I lose another stone, my cycles will get even more regular, also shorter (yea, like that appeals right now) with a more decisive luteal phase. So, annoying as it is to admit it, proper notice has been taken of the late ovulating and medical practice as practiced in Blighty has given it its best wallop. It sucks that Clomid was No Fucking Help and that I wasted three long (looooooong also psychosis-inducing) failed cycles dicking about with it once it had started making me anovulatory.
Item – As to the impending scrape, I have been sent a bunch of tiresome forms and an appointment for the pre-op check-up already, and that will be at the beginning of September. Last time I had a lap&hyst&dye, I went into surgery a month after the pre-op check-up, but then, I was lucky, because someone else cancelled and I was offered the slot at short notice. I highly doubt things will work out neatly this time. Christmas Shall Be Ruined. This is a universal truth for May. *gloom*
Item – Also, re.: the impending scrape, Thalia mentioned them dinging me on the weight thing. I don’t think my weight should be a problem. Last time I had this op I was a good deal heavier than I am now and my weight didn’t seem to bother them at all. I think they’re treating it as a medical necessity because my quality of life is so shit rather than as ‘fertility’ treatment, so they’re less likely to be arseholes about my avoirdupois. I hope. Nevertheless, I’ve already lost three pounds this week, simply by not being ovulatory any more, I think, or possibly salad.
Item – HFF commented: ‘This sounds mightily odd, but I really hope you have a single chunky wodge of very obviously painful and easily-accessed endo. They can then zap it away and Make It All Stop Hurting.’. I say, Hear Hear! very heartily indeed to this. But alack and well-a-day, I fear that scraping out the endo will merely mayhap give me my bladder back, also make sure Satsuma is talking to the One-And-Only Tube. There is no removing of adenomyosis without removing the uterus itself, which is pretty damn drastic. And it’s the adenomyosis that is probably causing most of The Pain. Though it’d be nice if the aches and pains post-period, that go on and on and fucking on, like a five-year-old with a grudge, could be Eliminated. I’m not holding out great hopes for this operation, am I? Well, it seems daft to. Cute Ute is pretty much the Elephant Man of uteri, bless her.