So I'm NOT crazy...or I AM crazy...
http://abcnews.go.com/Health/PainManagement/story?id=4072974
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Hooray for weekends...
Oh sweet jesus I have a brain smashing headache today. I've also lost all ability to concentrate. AF is on her way...and then this cycle starts. YAY! ACK! This morning I found the cereal in the refrigerator. Yesterday I found the mayonnaise in the pantry. I rather hope AF gets here soon...I've got some major PMS ditsy-ness happening.
The latest update (well, it's not that recent, but I can't remember if I blogged it): They are not making me redo the pre-NCIVF tests (saving us $800). In fact, they are allowing me to skip the first "baseline" bloodwork and ultrasounds since I live so far away (saving us $800...in gas).
I talked to my coordinator earlier in the week and for now, all I need to do is just call them on Day 1. They'll go ahead and order all my drugs on that day. Then I just show up on Day 7 for my first bloodwork/ultrasound. She said they will normally monitor you until around Day 12 or 13 - then it's Novarel time...then the harvesting. I may not be living out of a suitcase for as long as I had thought. That's always a good thing.
This weekend will be my last weekend at home for however long it takes. J and I will leave on the 5th for DC for a wedding and then I'll just stay up there for the cycle. I'm trying to wrap my brain around getting myself ready for this trip...but I have a feeling I'll just be throwing clothes into the back of the car an hour before we take off.
Oh - I also spoke to the doc about my concerns of Estrace. It's linked to breast cancer and other breast issues. And with my recent surgery, it just seems stupid to expose myself to anything that could exacerbate it. However, he said I would be on a very minimum dosage (2mg), it's strictly for "lining maintenance" (which kind of cracked me up), and (assuming this works) once they determine that your body is making enough estrogen to support your lining, they take you off of it. I'm told for most women that's about a month or so. The progesterone I will stay on for 3 months.
The progesterone they're prescribing comes in the form of tablets - not that messy disgusting cream. So not only do I not have to worry about the ick factor, but I don't have to worry about those crazy prometrium pills that made me feel drunk.
Actually, I might miss that part a little...
The latest update (well, it's not that recent, but I can't remember if I blogged it): They are not making me redo the pre-NCIVF tests (saving us $800). In fact, they are allowing me to skip the first "baseline" bloodwork and ultrasounds since I live so far away (saving us $800...in gas).
I talked to my coordinator earlier in the week and for now, all I need to do is just call them on Day 1. They'll go ahead and order all my drugs on that day. Then I just show up on Day 7 for my first bloodwork/ultrasound. She said they will normally monitor you until around Day 12 or 13 - then it's Novarel time...then the harvesting. I may not be living out of a suitcase for as long as I had thought. That's always a good thing.
This weekend will be my last weekend at home for however long it takes. J and I will leave on the 5th for DC for a wedding and then I'll just stay up there for the cycle. I'm trying to wrap my brain around getting myself ready for this trip...but I have a feeling I'll just be throwing clothes into the back of the car an hour before we take off.
Oh - I also spoke to the doc about my concerns of Estrace. It's linked to breast cancer and other breast issues. And with my recent surgery, it just seems stupid to expose myself to anything that could exacerbate it. However, he said I would be on a very minimum dosage (2mg), it's strictly for "lining maintenance" (which kind of cracked me up), and (assuming this works) once they determine that your body is making enough estrogen to support your lining, they take you off of it. I'm told for most women that's about a month or so. The progesterone I will stay on for 3 months.
The progesterone they're prescribing comes in the form of tablets - not that messy disgusting cream. So not only do I not have to worry about the ick factor, but I don't have to worry about those crazy prometrium pills that made me feel drunk.
Actually, I might miss that part a little...
Thursday, March 27, 2008
The Perks of Being an Infertile (Part II)
Hold on to your asses, it’s about to get positive in here.
(Yes, you are reading the same blog.)
The other day I came across a MSN column on infertility and how damaging it can be to a marriage. Right off the bat it struck me as odd. The headline reads: “We Can’t Get Pregnant and It’s Driving Us Apart.”
http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/couplesandmarriage/articlelhj.aspx?cp-documentid=6506501&page=1
It then struck me as odd that I thought of the article as odd. An article. On infertility. Causing stress in a marriage? Noooooooo. That's madness, isn't it?
But it seems that a lot of people don’t talk about this end of infertility. What a horrible person you would be if you were constantly arguing with your husband while trying to bring a new life in the world! Oh the horrors!
If you’re a lurker out there, you must admit - out of all blogs you’ve read discussing infertility, this one here, baby – THIS one will take you deep into the depths of my dirty laundry, no doubt to the chagrin of my husband. I have no problem letting out all my pent up anger at him, at family, at friends, at random strangers, at the circumstances that makes this blog even exist. This is my place to vent. This blog, in all its awful, detailed painful glory. I shudder to think how much more insane I’d be if I didn’t have this outlet.
In joining the blogging ranks, I have discovered there are some truly amazing women out there going through the same things, losing their minds over this roller coaster. Falling off, getting back on – some incredibly strong women who have pulled themselves through much worse than my pitiful little story and doing it all with a smile and grace. Some truly moving and inspirational stories are floating around out there and I’m so thankful people have chosen to share them.
On the other end of the spectrum, I don’t think I’ve ever read anybody’s postings about how much their husbands test their nerves when they’re on day 7 of stimulating meds. Or how – on day 12 of insomnia from Lupron – they were tempted to beat the hell out of their husband snoozing soundly beside them at 4am. Or when, during the second round of IVF their husband accidentally poked himself with the needle (not even drawing blood) and threw a tantrum for 20 minutes about how much it hurt, when you’ve already endured three weeks of injections (yes, that actually happened).
Could it be part of the Infertility Secret Society? Maybe infertility has more of a stigma than I give it credit for. Maybe people are too embarrassed to talk about this stuff. It's bad enought to be deemed infertile, but my GOD, what if people knew how hard it was on your marriage? Maybe they’re afraid people will judge them. Maybe they’re just scare of all the Skeet Ulrich fans of the world. Who knows. Clearly I am not one of them. I look Skeet in the face and I say “whatever man.” Given a glass or two of wine I have been known to tell my Tale of Two Stirrups to random strangers - internal exams, marital issues and all. No doubt my name and the abbreviation “TMI” has been used in the same sentence more times than I’ve been on the receiving end of a needle (that’s a lot by the way).
The Little Black Fairies will no doubt be knocking on my door at any moment for leaking this information to the public. Or maybe not, because I’m about to make a pretty bold LBF statement:
It may shock the hell out of you to learn that despite all my bitching there isn't a thing on this infertility journey that I would change (well, except for the not having a kid part). The entire experience has dramatically changed us individually and as a couple. Sometimes in the heat of the moment, it's not in a good way. But overall I am thankful of how much this has forced us to grow as people and as a couple. I'm madly in love with my husband, even though he still doesn’t quite grasp why I don’t attend baby showers.
Let’s face it - infertility blows, plain and simple. It flips your world upside down. It makes you doubt yourself, your body, your marriage, your friendships, your own mind sometimes.
BUT, if I’m being honest (not my usual pissed off self) I think there are upsides to experiencing infertility. For instance (and don’t interpret this the wrong way), but I imagine that women having gone through painful and scary procedures to get pregnant are probably more thankful (and maybe that’s not the right word – maybe grateful? appreciative?) when they do get pregnant and have kids. In fact, wasn’t there just something in the news recently about women who went through ART have happier pregnancies?
Don’t get your panties in a bunch – I’m not saying the fertiles love their kids less. I just think for most things in the life – the harder you have to work for it, the more it means to you, the happier you are to finally have it. It’s my (untested) theory anyway.
But it’s more than that. There is a part of me that thinks that once we get pregnant (oh my god, did you see how I used positive affirmation there?) we’re going to look at all the “fertiles” of the world and think:
“Ha! So what! You had a kid. Look at us, we worked our asses off for 5 years, and we became three (oh god, don’t let it be twins or triplets). WE went through ‘this is your marriage at its worst boot camp’ and we came out the other side. And THEN we had a kid. We kept at it even on a bad day when we knew in our own hearts it was never going to work. We dusted each other off, we got back in the stirrups and we did it again. We cried, we screamed, we fought, we drank entirely too much, we cut ourselves off from real life, we laughed over ridiculously insensitive comments that people we love made, we turned this entire mess into an inside joke that only we got, we loved, we healed, we broke again and we healed again. And you…you, you poor fertile…you had a night of passion and then you had a kid. How can you possibly be prepared?”
Maybe it’s just me, but I’d be terrified if I were them.
(Yes, you are reading the same blog.)
The other day I came across a MSN column on infertility and how damaging it can be to a marriage. Right off the bat it struck me as odd. The headline reads: “We Can’t Get Pregnant and It’s Driving Us Apart.”
http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/couplesandmarriage/articlelhj.aspx?cp-documentid=6506501&page=1
It then struck me as odd that I thought of the article as odd. An article. On infertility. Causing stress in a marriage? Noooooooo. That's madness, isn't it?
But it seems that a lot of people don’t talk about this end of infertility. What a horrible person you would be if you were constantly arguing with your husband while trying to bring a new life in the world! Oh the horrors!
If you’re a lurker out there, you must admit - out of all blogs you’ve read discussing infertility, this one here, baby – THIS one will take you deep into the depths of my dirty laundry, no doubt to the chagrin of my husband. I have no problem letting out all my pent up anger at him, at family, at friends, at random strangers, at the circumstances that makes this blog even exist. This is my place to vent. This blog, in all its awful, detailed painful glory. I shudder to think how much more insane I’d be if I didn’t have this outlet.
In joining the blogging ranks, I have discovered there are some truly amazing women out there going through the same things, losing their minds over this roller coaster. Falling off, getting back on – some incredibly strong women who have pulled themselves through much worse than my pitiful little story and doing it all with a smile and grace. Some truly moving and inspirational stories are floating around out there and I’m so thankful people have chosen to share them.
On the other end of the spectrum, I don’t think I’ve ever read anybody’s postings about how much their husbands test their nerves when they’re on day 7 of stimulating meds. Or how – on day 12 of insomnia from Lupron – they were tempted to beat the hell out of their husband snoozing soundly beside them at 4am. Or when, during the second round of IVF their husband accidentally poked himself with the needle (not even drawing blood) and threw a tantrum for 20 minutes about how much it hurt, when you’ve already endured three weeks of injections (yes, that actually happened).
Could it be part of the Infertility Secret Society? Maybe infertility has more of a stigma than I give it credit for. Maybe people are too embarrassed to talk about this stuff. It's bad enought to be deemed infertile, but my GOD, what if people knew how hard it was on your marriage? Maybe they’re afraid people will judge them. Maybe they’re just scare of all the Skeet Ulrich fans of the world. Who knows. Clearly I am not one of them. I look Skeet in the face and I say “whatever man.” Given a glass or two of wine I have been known to tell my Tale of Two Stirrups to random strangers - internal exams, marital issues and all. No doubt my name and the abbreviation “TMI” has been used in the same sentence more times than I’ve been on the receiving end of a needle (that’s a lot by the way).
The Little Black Fairies will no doubt be knocking on my door at any moment for leaking this information to the public. Or maybe not, because I’m about to make a pretty bold LBF statement:
It may shock the hell out of you to learn that despite all my bitching there isn't a thing on this infertility journey that I would change (well, except for the not having a kid part). The entire experience has dramatically changed us individually and as a couple. Sometimes in the heat of the moment, it's not in a good way. But overall I am thankful of how much this has forced us to grow as people and as a couple. I'm madly in love with my husband, even though he still doesn’t quite grasp why I don’t attend baby showers.
Let’s face it - infertility blows, plain and simple. It flips your world upside down. It makes you doubt yourself, your body, your marriage, your friendships, your own mind sometimes.
BUT, if I’m being honest (not my usual pissed off self) I think there are upsides to experiencing infertility. For instance (and don’t interpret this the wrong way), but I imagine that women having gone through painful and scary procedures to get pregnant are probably more thankful (and maybe that’s not the right word – maybe grateful? appreciative?) when they do get pregnant and have kids. In fact, wasn’t there just something in the news recently about women who went through ART have happier pregnancies?
Don’t get your panties in a bunch – I’m not saying the fertiles love their kids less. I just think for most things in the life – the harder you have to work for it, the more it means to you, the happier you are to finally have it. It’s my (untested) theory anyway.
But it’s more than that. There is a part of me that thinks that once we get pregnant (oh my god, did you see how I used positive affirmation there?) we’re going to look at all the “fertiles” of the world and think:
“Ha! So what! You had a kid. Look at us, we worked our asses off for 5 years, and we became three (oh god, don’t let it be twins or triplets). WE went through ‘this is your marriage at its worst boot camp’ and we came out the other side. And THEN we had a kid. We kept at it even on a bad day when we knew in our own hearts it was never going to work. We dusted each other off, we got back in the stirrups and we did it again. We cried, we screamed, we fought, we drank entirely too much, we cut ourselves off from real life, we laughed over ridiculously insensitive comments that people we love made, we turned this entire mess into an inside joke that only we got, we loved, we healed, we broke again and we healed again. And you…you, you poor fertile…you had a night of passion and then you had a kid. How can you possibly be prepared?”
Maybe it’s just me, but I’d be terrified if I were them.
The Secret Society of The Little Black Fairies (Part I)
My cousin (who has also battled infertility) and I have had conversations about what we’ve deemed “The Little Black Fairies”. The Little Black Fairies are the imaginary things that come in and scrub people’s memories of the bad parts of an experience. For instance it allows a woman in the days following birth (the single most physical traumatic experience of her life) to say things like: “It really wasn’t that bad” or “I can’t wait to have another baby”.
It’s a good thing we have the Little Black Fairy phenomenon, or let’s face it, humankind probably wouldn’t have thrived as well. Women would hate their children because just looking into their faces would bring back a vivid reminder of being ripped open to the eyeballs. No woman in her right mind would ever have sex after that first child, would they?
As a result of The Little Black Fairies, there is now a “secret society” of life experiences. Things that happen that, unless it has happened to you, nobody seems to even know it even exists. For instance, my cousin I just mentioned gave birth a few weeks ago. After a 24 hour marathon of natural childbirth, the baby was stuck and she ended up having an emergency c-section. 24 hours later, her entire digestive system shut down in a condition called “Ileus”.
Now I consider myself at least on the upper-scale of knowledge when it comes to baby making, baby birthing and hard core scientific IVF god-playing. Of course having not experienced childbirth myself, my knowledge is strictly from an internet geek point of view. Five years on the infertility scene – paired with the fact that I work in research, has left me more time on my hands than you can imagine to read up on every ounce of information I can get hold of.
So I was a little taken aback when I got word of her hospital stay and discovered this new word I had never read on any baby-related website before: Ileus. I had to look it up. For those of you (like me) that don’t know, it’s a temporary paralysis of a portion of the intestines – somewhat common after abdominal surgery.
An apparently scary, very painful experience. Instead of bonding with her baby after surgery, she was drugged, had a tube shoved down her nose into her stomach to pump out acids, was given liquids/food by IV for 3-4 days…and well, a plethora of other horrible things that I’m sure I don’t even know about yet, and the Little Black Fairies have probably already stolen from her memory.
Now let me go back to the definition of Ileus. That’s right, you read the word “common” in there. “Somewhat common after abdominal surgery.” Do you see how the Little Black Fairies managed to scrub that word away?
Sometimes I imagine there is a midnight ceremony that takes place right after a woman gives birth. The LBF’s, or maybe a group of disgruntled government workers who are afraid of losing their jobs at the Census Bureau, bust into the woman’s hospital room, make her swear on her life that she will not divulge the scary and painful parts of the birth experience and then steal away into the night.
Maybe Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones are there with that little flashy-memory-eraser thing. Who knows – the point is - by the time you get to the maternity ward to visit your friend and her new baby, the only thing she will/can talk about is how beautiful this new little bundle is. And now you’ve got Baby Fever…and the cycle repeats itself for the history of mankind.
I even think that there are Secret Society of Motherhood meetings that happen at 1am every full moon in the middle of rural cornfields. These women get together, initiate new mothers and discuss the awful bits. They then scheme against new yet-un-pregnant recruits. These are the people that ask “So, when are you and so-and-so going to start a family?” They say things like “You would just make a wonderful mother,” and then they thrust their adorable child into your hands while they conveniently make a “quick” trip to the restroom. Leaving you standing there while their darling child makes sweet little cooing noises and your ovaries crank it up to super-fertile.
The motherhood secret society fascinates me. I so want to be part of it. But I digress (a lot – my apologies). My point here is (believe it not!) there is also a Secret Society of the Infertile. Actually, it’s SO Secret that even amongst the infertile no one speaks of it….
Which leads me to my next post: The Perks of Being an Infertile….
It’s a good thing we have the Little Black Fairy phenomenon, or let’s face it, humankind probably wouldn’t have thrived as well. Women would hate their children because just looking into their faces would bring back a vivid reminder of being ripped open to the eyeballs. No woman in her right mind would ever have sex after that first child, would they?
As a result of The Little Black Fairies, there is now a “secret society” of life experiences. Things that happen that, unless it has happened to you, nobody seems to even know it even exists. For instance, my cousin I just mentioned gave birth a few weeks ago. After a 24 hour marathon of natural childbirth, the baby was stuck and she ended up having an emergency c-section. 24 hours later, her entire digestive system shut down in a condition called “Ileus”.
Now I consider myself at least on the upper-scale of knowledge when it comes to baby making, baby birthing and hard core scientific IVF god-playing. Of course having not experienced childbirth myself, my knowledge is strictly from an internet geek point of view. Five years on the infertility scene – paired with the fact that I work in research, has left me more time on my hands than you can imagine to read up on every ounce of information I can get hold of.
So I was a little taken aback when I got word of her hospital stay and discovered this new word I had never read on any baby-related website before: Ileus. I had to look it up. For those of you (like me) that don’t know, it’s a temporary paralysis of a portion of the intestines – somewhat common after abdominal surgery.
An apparently scary, very painful experience. Instead of bonding with her baby after surgery, she was drugged, had a tube shoved down her nose into her stomach to pump out acids, was given liquids/food by IV for 3-4 days…and well, a plethora of other horrible things that I’m sure I don’t even know about yet, and the Little Black Fairies have probably already stolen from her memory.
Now let me go back to the definition of Ileus. That’s right, you read the word “common” in there. “Somewhat common after abdominal surgery.” Do you see how the Little Black Fairies managed to scrub that word away?
Sometimes I imagine there is a midnight ceremony that takes place right after a woman gives birth. The LBF’s, or maybe a group of disgruntled government workers who are afraid of losing their jobs at the Census Bureau, bust into the woman’s hospital room, make her swear on her life that she will not divulge the scary and painful parts of the birth experience and then steal away into the night.
Maybe Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones are there with that little flashy-memory-eraser thing. Who knows – the point is - by the time you get to the maternity ward to visit your friend and her new baby, the only thing she will/can talk about is how beautiful this new little bundle is. And now you’ve got Baby Fever…and the cycle repeats itself for the history of mankind.
I even think that there are Secret Society of Motherhood meetings that happen at 1am every full moon in the middle of rural cornfields. These women get together, initiate new mothers and discuss the awful bits. They then scheme against new yet-un-pregnant recruits. These are the people that ask “So, when are you and so-and-so going to start a family?” They say things like “You would just make a wonderful mother,” and then they thrust their adorable child into your hands while they conveniently make a “quick” trip to the restroom. Leaving you standing there while their darling child makes sweet little cooing noises and your ovaries crank it up to super-fertile.
The motherhood secret society fascinates me. I so want to be part of it. But I digress (a lot – my apologies). My point here is (believe it not!) there is also a Secret Society of the Infertile. Actually, it’s SO Secret that even amongst the infertile no one speaks of it….
Which leads me to my next post: The Perks of Being an Infertile….
Monday, March 24, 2008
Monday Morning Silver Lining (completely UNfertility related):
The alarm went off...
I wiped the sleep from my eyes....
grabbed a cup of joe....
turned on the computer...
opened my browser to log into my email...
wha...
...wait...
What is this I spy?
A headline on CNN.com: "Nuts! 'Jericho' has been canceled"
I could hardly contain my happiness as I forwarded my husband the link. No more Tuesday nights listening to Skeet Ulrich's voice (from the other room) while my husband caught up on the latest man-soap-opera.
J and I have been reduced to yelling matches over how bad the acting is (WAS - ha!) on that show. "But it's such a great storyline" "Yes, but how can you pay attention to the storyline when you're wondering if Skeet's going to remember to breathe during his next line" "But I just have to know what happens at the end." "I know what happens - at the end of the next sentence Skeet's going to pass out. Oh - and I think there was something about a nuclear bomb."
Beat it, Skeet...
I wiped the sleep from my eyes....
grabbed a cup of joe....
turned on the computer...
opened my browser to log into my email...
wha...
...wait...
What is this I spy?
A headline on CNN.com: "Nuts! 'Jericho' has been canceled"
I could hardly contain my happiness as I forwarded my husband the link. No more Tuesday nights listening to Skeet Ulrich's voice (from the other room) while my husband caught up on the latest man-soap-opera.
J and I have been reduced to yelling matches over how bad the acting is (WAS - ha!) on that show. "But it's such a great storyline" "Yes, but how can you pay attention to the storyline when you're wondering if Skeet's going to remember to breathe during his next line" "But I just have to know what happens at the end." "I know what happens - at the end of the next sentence Skeet's going to pass out. Oh - and I think there was something about a nuclear bomb."
Beat it, Skeet...
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Sucess Rates
The doctor called J this morning to actually talk him out of purchasing the 3 cycles at one time. At first I was a bit skeptical. The doctor - calling to talk somebody out of saving money. Is this for real?
But in the long haul, if we do the discount and we get pregnant in cycle 1 or 2, we would lose $1k. If we pay per cycle and we do all 3 cycles without getting pregnant, THEN we lose $1k. Probably confusing to anybody who hasn't talked to their billing department, so I apologize. But (after J explained it to me three times), it actually makes sense.
The reason the doctor called? Their NC-IVF program is only about a year old (maybe a year and a half). People are apparently taking to it and signing up left and right before they try conventional IVF. Patient friendly, less expensive, no recovery...who wouldn't?
The clinic was offering this discounted program because at first they were having a hard time retrieving eggs. During NCIVF you're not on drugs that manipulate stimulation / ovulation. Well they are apparently nailing down some pretty impressive procedures for egg harvesting:
They now have a 90% success rates in harvesting. Hence the doctor's call: Don't blow your money, we've got this shit down.
Damn right bitches...bring it on........
But in the long haul, if we do the discount and we get pregnant in cycle 1 or 2, we would lose $1k. If we pay per cycle and we do all 3 cycles without getting pregnant, THEN we lose $1k. Probably confusing to anybody who hasn't talked to their billing department, so I apologize. But (after J explained it to me three times), it actually makes sense.
The reason the doctor called? Their NC-IVF program is only about a year old (maybe a year and a half). People are apparently taking to it and signing up left and right before they try conventional IVF. Patient friendly, less expensive, no recovery...who wouldn't?
The clinic was offering this discounted program because at first they were having a hard time retrieving eggs. During NCIVF you're not on drugs that manipulate stimulation / ovulation. Well they are apparently nailing down some pretty impressive procedures for egg harvesting:
They now have a 90% success rates in harvesting. Hence the doctor's call: Don't blow your money, we've got this shit down.
Damn right bitches...bring it on........
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Er...wait
Clinic called again - turns out we HAVE exhausted our insurance coverage (proving once again you really do have to be a brain surgeon to figure this stuff out). So we're back to self-pay patients. Which, in some weird way, is almost a relief. Yes...it's more money, but it also means that we write one check and we're done with dealing with ALL things financial for 3 cycles. No more being at the whim of a confused billing department.
Holy cow...I'm getting excited. REALLY excited...(what a strange feeling this is!!!).
Woohoo! :)
Holy cow...I'm getting excited. REALLY excited...(what a strange feeling this is!!!).
Woohoo! :)
Wow! What a morning!
First we get NCIVF all scheduled and situated for April...and (finally) the specialist called J back.
They reviewed all his tests and although they're not 100% sure that they can change anything, they do want to do some deeper testing. Unfortunately his appointment isn't until the end of April - and by that time the first cycle of NCIVF will be over, but at least they're willing to see him.
So if this cycle doesn't work, we can proceed with the specialist. If the cycle DOES work - we'll still go ahead with it anyway - who knows...maybe we won't need IVF the next time (stranger things have happened, right?).
They reviewed all his tests and although they're not 100% sure that they can change anything, they do want to do some deeper testing. Unfortunately his appointment isn't until the end of April - and by that time the first cycle of NCIVF will be over, but at least they're willing to see him.
So if this cycle doesn't work, we can proceed with the specialist. If the cycle DOES work - we'll still go ahead with it anyway - who knows...maybe we won't need IVF the next time (stranger things have happened, right?).
Wonders Never Cease...
Well first of all, after J raised hell yesterday, not only did we get an after-hours phone call back from the clinic last night, but they were hammering out details early this morning with our insurance company.
As it turns out, my health insurance plan changed in 2008 and we actually HAVE coverage. It's a $4k lifetime (it used to be a $2k lifetime, so I'm not sure if that $2k counts towards this, or if the coverage is brand-new and we just start over). But it's 70% coverage up to $4k ($600 deductible).
I think you need to be a brain surgeon to figure it all out, but bottom line: it sounds like we can do this round of IVF and still afford to eat. So that's good (one less thing, right?).
We will also NOT have to pay another $800 to update our tests. J basically told them there's no way they could ask us to do another mock transfer since it was their fault it was taking so long to get this cycle going. Well, that wasn't entirely true...but it's saving us 800 bucks. So hey...I'm in.
My husband, my hero - I love it when he gets all fired up. :)
As it turns out, my health insurance plan changed in 2008 and we actually HAVE coverage. It's a $4k lifetime (it used to be a $2k lifetime, so I'm not sure if that $2k counts towards this, or if the coverage is brand-new and we just start over). But it's 70% coverage up to $4k ($600 deductible).
I think you need to be a brain surgeon to figure it all out, but bottom line: it sounds like we can do this round of IVF and still afford to eat. So that's good (one less thing, right?).
We will also NOT have to pay another $800 to update our tests. J basically told them there's no way they could ask us to do another mock transfer since it was their fault it was taking so long to get this cycle going. Well, that wasn't entirely true...but it's saving us 800 bucks. So hey...I'm in.
My husband, my hero - I love it when he gets all fired up. :)
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Clash of the Titans
In the spirit of “nothing is ever simple”, we have a new and exciting problem on our hands:
The Clinic’s Lawyers vs. The Worthless Health Insurance Company
The Clinic’s Lawyers vs. The Worthless Health Insurance Company
It’s proving to be worthy of Michael Moore. Here’s the quick (ha!) rehash:
Our new clinic is (apparently) required to file all treatments through my insurance. Keep in mind I have zero fertility coverage left. The clinic has a program where you spend so much money and you get 3 cycles - if you get preg on cycle 1 or 2, you get some of your money back. So because they have to file through my insurance (who will cough up nothing), we no longer qualify for this discount program.
To make things worse - they (and all doctors) bill your insurance company more than they would if you were paying outright. So they're going to bill my insurance more, the insurance company is going to laugh at them and forward us the bill. So not only do we not qualify for the 3-cycle discount...we will be paying more because we have insurance.
But wait, there’s more: Our consultation with them was in January - since we live 4 hours away, they went ahead and ran some tests on me while I was there (save me a trip back later). Turns out those tests are not included in a cycle of IVF (I assumed they were – I admit, this was entirely my fault). And as I said - United is useless. So before we even start IVF, we owe the clinic $800.
The icing? The tests I had done were only good for 2 months. They expire TODAY. Which means (in theory) I am supposed to have them updated and will have to pay $800 AGAIN. I'm going to beg the doctor to let me out of it.
I found out about this insurance fiasco last week when I called the billing department with the intention of paying for my 3 cycles (this is also when I found out about the 800 bucks I owe). Now to be fair, the woman I spoke with was very nice and promised that she was going to talk to their lawyers about ignoring my insurance, she was going to confirm that I have no more insurance coverage, and she was going to call me last Thursday. She hasn’t called. I have called several times for her and J has left at least 3 messages which have yet to be returned.
We have a fertility coordinator who is supposed to handle all the logistics, so J just called back and asked specifically for her (got voicemail – left a message bitching about how we can’t get this billing crap handled). If she doesn’t call back today, my head will most likely explode. I mean come on – we have 2 weeks before treatments start – we need a LITTLE time to pull the money together for all this. It ain’t exactly pocket change.
In other news: J has told me he’s going to take on handling all this…my job is to show up for appointments and to not pass out when they take blood. Put that way, I’ve never been so relieved to be on the receiving end of the needle.
Our new clinic is (apparently) required to file all treatments through my insurance. Keep in mind I have zero fertility coverage left. The clinic has a program where you spend so much money and you get 3 cycles - if you get preg on cycle 1 or 2, you get some of your money back. So because they have to file through my insurance (who will cough up nothing), we no longer qualify for this discount program.
To make things worse - they (and all doctors) bill your insurance company more than they would if you were paying outright. So they're going to bill my insurance more, the insurance company is going to laugh at them and forward us the bill. So not only do we not qualify for the 3-cycle discount...we will be paying more because we have insurance.
But wait, there’s more: Our consultation with them was in January - since we live 4 hours away, they went ahead and ran some tests on me while I was there (save me a trip back later). Turns out those tests are not included in a cycle of IVF (I assumed they were – I admit, this was entirely my fault). And as I said - United is useless. So before we even start IVF, we owe the clinic $800.
The icing? The tests I had done were only good for 2 months. They expire TODAY. Which means (in theory) I am supposed to have them updated and will have to pay $800 AGAIN. I'm going to beg the doctor to let me out of it.
I found out about this insurance fiasco last week when I called the billing department with the intention of paying for my 3 cycles (this is also when I found out about the 800 bucks I owe). Now to be fair, the woman I spoke with was very nice and promised that she was going to talk to their lawyers about ignoring my insurance, she was going to confirm that I have no more insurance coverage, and she was going to call me last Thursday. She hasn’t called. I have called several times for her and J has left at least 3 messages which have yet to be returned.
We have a fertility coordinator who is supposed to handle all the logistics, so J just called back and asked specifically for her (got voicemail – left a message bitching about how we can’t get this billing crap handled). If she doesn’t call back today, my head will most likely explode. I mean come on – we have 2 weeks before treatments start – we need a LITTLE time to pull the money together for all this. It ain’t exactly pocket change.
In other news: J has told me he’s going to take on handling all this…my job is to show up for appointments and to not pass out when they take blood. Put that way, I’ve never been so relieved to be on the receiving end of the needle.
And just as an update: After 2 weeks of leaving messages with the male infertility specialist, we still can't get anybody to call us back there either. What is it with everybody?
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Take THAT Infertility!
Just found out my lovely cousin who squashed infertility to the ground gave birth last night to her first child at 11:48pm.
11 pounds, 4 ounces.
Holy shit, he's practically a teenager already.
11 pounds, 4 ounces.
Holy shit, he's practically a teenager already.
Microsurgery? My latest, desperate search for a way out of this mess
My cousin recently sent me an email with a link in it about male infertility.
Having dealt with infertility for almost 5 years now I have a tendency to ignore most links people send me - let's face it, if it's out there then be assured that there is a 99.9999% chance that I have already read it. I can list at least 10 things that my own doctor doesn't know about male infertility. Most of it might be theory...but when you're grasping for straws, even theory starts to sound good enough.
Thanks to a boring afternoon at work, I went ahead and clicked the link she sent me. Lo and behold, buried in an article that was telling me absolutely nothing new, I pulled out a golden nugget. The word "Microsurgery" used in the same sentence as the phrase "has shown good results in reversing male infertility."
Whoa.
I re-read it at least 5 times. Then I started searching for more articles on microsurgery. Before I knew it, I had blown about 3 hours learning something new (NEW!) in the infertility realm.
In all the years of testing that we have been put through, nobody has ever recommended that J see a urologist or any type of specialist. They have all pointed us in the direction of IVF - case closed.
Now, microsurgery is new. In fact, other than telling you that it's a surgical procedure that opens blocked/clogged ducts, I really don't understand it myself (even after hours of reading). I'm not sure which patients qualify - if WE qualify. I stand before you an ignorant, desperate woman grasping for more theories.
But I do know that with J's Vegas trip next week and this month's IVF on hold, we have all of March where we're not doing jack but sitting around on our asses, so we might as well be doing something.
I found a urologist at UVA that specializes in male infertility/microsurgery. I skipped right over our doctors heads and had J call them. First they have to figure out if this is something that is even correctable by surgery. Last week J faxed all his texts to them for their review. We're (of course) antsy as hell, so J called yesterday just to check on the status - we're told someone will call by tomorrow.
I know I am stupid to put any hope into this. In fact, it's without a doubt detrimental to my mental well-being that I even think of this as an option. I'd like to say I'm not...but last night I had a dream that we were ttc the fun way.
God, it was a goooooooooooooood dream...........
Having dealt with infertility for almost 5 years now I have a tendency to ignore most links people send me - let's face it, if it's out there then be assured that there is a 99.9999% chance that I have already read it. I can list at least 10 things that my own doctor doesn't know about male infertility. Most of it might be theory...but when you're grasping for straws, even theory starts to sound good enough.
Thanks to a boring afternoon at work, I went ahead and clicked the link she sent me. Lo and behold, buried in an article that was telling me absolutely nothing new, I pulled out a golden nugget. The word "Microsurgery" used in the same sentence as the phrase "has shown good results in reversing male infertility."
Whoa.
I re-read it at least 5 times. Then I started searching for more articles on microsurgery. Before I knew it, I had blown about 3 hours learning something new (NEW!) in the infertility realm.
In all the years of testing that we have been put through, nobody has ever recommended that J see a urologist or any type of specialist. They have all pointed us in the direction of IVF - case closed.
Now, microsurgery is new. In fact, other than telling you that it's a surgical procedure that opens blocked/clogged ducts, I really don't understand it myself (even after hours of reading). I'm not sure which patients qualify - if WE qualify. I stand before you an ignorant, desperate woman grasping for more theories.
But I do know that with J's Vegas trip next week and this month's IVF on hold, we have all of March where we're not doing jack but sitting around on our asses, so we might as well be doing something.
I found a urologist at UVA that specializes in male infertility/microsurgery. I skipped right over our doctors heads and had J call them. First they have to figure out if this is something that is even correctable by surgery. Last week J faxed all his texts to them for their review. We're (of course) antsy as hell, so J called yesterday just to check on the status - we're told someone will call by tomorrow.
I know I am stupid to put any hope into this. In fact, it's without a doubt detrimental to my mental well-being that I even think of this as an option. I'd like to say I'm not...but last night I had a dream that we were ttc the fun way.
God, it was a goooooooooooooood dream...........
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
