Sunday, May 10, 2015

Letrozole scan

Went for Letrozole scan. The Dr. on call who performed it gave me the impression of being quite pissed off because she had to be at the office on Sunday, and on Mother's Day, no less. She was professional, but brisk and unfriendly (and she refused to look for semen analysis kit, so my husband would have to drive there again to pick it up). She did not tell me the size of follicles, and I did not do my homework - so I did not ask. My impression was, they are not quite as big as she would want them to be, and there are only two of them. She outlined the protocol: few more days of Letrozole, trigger shot on Wednesday, BD on Thursday, estrogen and progesterone few days afterwards. I flat out refused estrogen. I questioned the idea of more Letrozole. I basically got very confused, since none of this was discussed as a possibility at my last week appointment, and decided I will have to think it over and talk to my Dr about all of it. As for my continuing spotting - she dismissed since my lining "looks good". 
Also, she told me there's a possible small cyst on my right ovary - the one that I had a surgery on. "Or maybe it's just the way your ovary looks after the surgery," she said, but I am so not convinced. She doesn't think this cyst appeared during the last 10 days. Does this mean they missed it while doing an ultrasound to rule out any cysts before starting me on Letrozole? Or is it a Letrozole sife effect? Too many questions, and no answers. 
There was a poignant moment today, while we were waiting for the Dr. to come and for the office to open. All three of us had to come to the appointment - the kid had a birthday party nearby to attend later, and we were going there as soon as the ultrasound was over. Another woman came to the door to wait. She was alone. She complimented my kid, we exchanged some platitudes about bilingual childhood. She mentioned that her husband was of different ethnicity. She mentioned her nephew. I just knew she was there for the same reason as me, but she had it much worse. And my heart was breaking for her, too.
It was also breaking for us. Two years. Two years, and we are visiting the same parties, same shows, same places. And I am still checking my freaking pantiliners and pads, peeing on sticks, and having nothing to show for it but few gray hairs. 

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