So the Fancy Clinic can go fuck themselves.
The doctor we had gone to called us because – as I’d predicted – he wanted to talk to us about all of the questions we’d had for the coordinator. God forbid we actually advocate for ourselves and ask questions!!!
Here’s the wrap-up from the call:
- He refused to let us use insurance-covered oral estradiol tablets because “they don’t use them at their clinic”. Wouldn’t even consider it and wouldn’t say why, that’s just not what they use. Fine, we said, we’ll do the delestrogen injections if he insists.
- He outright LIED to us in the consult when he’d said he could take our frozen embryos. Turns out, he has NOT confirmed that they can take our frozen embryos with my RE’s office. Not even close. Now, our former clinic’s embryology lab is closed til the end of the month, so the plan to start meds this week is of course off because if in 2 weeks the answer is no, we will have thrown our money down the toilet. Along with this, they’d sent us in this morning to get blood drawn for all kinds of labs – yes! They had us pay for labs out of pocket KNOWING they didn’t know if they would actually be able work with us!!!! What a bunch of assholes.
- And the cherry on top? After talking in circles for at least 10 minutes about their standard tests done for regular IVF patients (most being totally irrelevant to our case since we’re using existing frozen embryos), he decided to hone in on my last breast thermography that was done during this spring’s IVF (which I’d already explained to them wasn’t valid because of the hormones I’d been on that skewed the results, something the thermographer pointed out after the fact, and actually gave me a partial refund in apology, saying I’d need to re-do it after IVF hormones were out of my system) and said that because he didn’t understand it, my current primary doctor would have to interpret the therm results – even though I’d told him over and over that I went for my therm separately and that my PCP doesn’t have experience in breast thermography. He was asking me for the impossible, reading and re-reading the results of the therm back to me until I finally told him he needed to stop reading something to me that *I* gave *him*. His reasoning was “what if I have breast cancer” and I said you know what, I don’t care if I do, I still want to do this, and I walk every day of my life with the knowledge of my family history, and that should not prevent me from getting my embryos transferred into me. I expressed my frustration that Fancy Clinic was throwing up unnecessary roadblocks, all the while sending me in for labs before even verifying they could treat me! The doctor had said early on that he wasn’t requiring me to have a mammogram, but by the end said he would not do a transfer on me if I couldn’t have my current PCP interpret my therm results and prove that my breast health was fine (even though I’d told him a) that was impossible, and b) the doctor who did my Pap also did my breast exam, which he has results for that have been sent to him TWICE). My boobs have nothing to do with my ability to have an embryo put in me, but obviously he did not care. He wanted to control and he was pissed he couldn’t. He then started – I shit you not – YELLING at me, including a “YOU LISTEN TO ME!!!”that was so loud my husband could hear it on the other side of the sofa. Our chins dropped. I told him his attitude sucked, his behavior was completely inappropriate, and there was no fucking way we’d ever work with his clinic, and hung up.
So, what now?
Well, first I had a cry in my husband’s arms while he fumed about how much of a dick the doctor was, but I allowed myself just 5 minutes.
Just 5 minutes and I said to him, what if we ask Original RE if he’d do the ERA? I mean, the rest of the protocol is the same, exact same drugs, so while we’re upset at how things went before, we have GOT to own this process, and since it doesn’t appear to matter what clinic we go to, with our experience in IVF, wouldn’t it be better to at least go to a clinic we’re familiar with, where we’re not treated like a number, where the red tape is nonexistent because I can talk directly with my RE on his cell after hours, something impossible with Big Fancy Clinic where there are layers upon layers of bureaucracy and the right hand has no fucking clue of what’s going on with the left?
So what the hell, I dropped my Original RE a text. And about an hour later, he gave me a call – from home – and I explained to him that our “second opinion” had recommended an ERA, and asked if he’d be willing to do that for us to assess the timing of the transfer.
He said yes. While it’s not something he has used at his clinic, the doc has plenty of experience doing biopsies, and was absolutely willing to get set up with Igenomix (the company that does ERA testing – basically he just does the biopsy and sends it out, same process as Big Fancy Clinic), having me do the mock cycle in December and actual transfer in 2017. He also said he’d absolutely be putting both “A” embryos in (damn straight!), and all the while kept his gentle demeanor. We’ll get me started on the mock transfer protocol as soon as my period arrives, which should be any day now. No transporting of embryos, no unnecessary labs to pay for (seriously, here are more examples: they wanted proof that I’d had the chicken pox, proof of my MMR vax back in college (yeah, 1991, y’all), a test to determine my blood type even though I already told them I’m A+ (as if I’d make that up), and that even though my husband was vaccinated from Hep B – and of course – another test done on him for that along with HIV and other diseases – even though he wouldn’t be unzipping at this clinic because we have 6 embryos on ice), no stressing about a doctor that had never even managed to crack a smile, and no extra thousand bucks to come up with to pay for their higher rates and
So, we’re going to give our Original RE one final chance. I couldn’t imagine being a doormat to the orders of the bully that is Big Fancy Clinic, and as my vibes had been so bad about them from the start, even though I’d purposefully been open to them impressing me, I was actually relieved when I got to dump them. Maybe that’s why a 5 minute cry was enough. So yeah, we’re going to buck up and return to the place I didn’t want to go back to because I was so heartbroken at their lack of interest in doing anything but the old standby, but you know what ? If I do my homework and ask for something, I’ll get it, and from what I’ve learned thus far, that’s better than I’ll get at Big Fancy Clinic.
And really, I’m just done with it all. Done with trying any more after this. Done with how this process has made me feel. Done with how DEIVF has changed the core of who I am. Done with baggies of syringes and pills and vials and And it’s time to move on after this. Time to wait for Ethiopia if the belly is not destined to hold a baby. Time to use our money to pay off our house, explore the countryside, save for retirement. Time to live again. There may be a happy surprise early next year, there may not. It may be time to put this all to bed.
No need to go past six.
Big need to bring me back to life.
That is my wish for 2017. New outlook. New start. New chance at happiness.
Until then, time to deal with the fact that we got our entire kitchen done today…then discovered that our GC fucked up our pipes under the sink and we now have to call the plumber. Cross your fingers for us that we’ll have running water by Thanksgiving. Oh please please let me not be washing dishes in the basement laundry tub much longer. That’s my holiday wish.