Gambling for Treatment

So within about a 15 minute drive of the Las Vegas strip there are 4 different fertility clinics. How do I know this you might ask? I was privileged enough to visit one of these "fine" institutions while in Vegas for a conference - yes, fertility treatment does not stop for anything. So it took calling 3 of the clinics before I could find one that would see an out-of-town patient, and apparently they assumed I was going to go gambling first so I could afford a visit to their office. Though that only would have worked at the $5 black jack table if I won every hand for a couple of hours. Amazing the Vegas office was twice as much as my DC office - and made me wait even longer. There was one thing I noticed that was very interesting. In DC I am usually the youngest looking patient in the office. In Vegas, I seemed to fit right in - whether people on the west coast just look younger or the multitude of wedding chapels gets people thinking about infertility at a younger age - I couldn't tell you - but in an odd way I felt a little more comfortable sitting in their waiting room (that was of course until I got the bill). The bottom line is, in dealing with infertility treatment the end result might be a gamble, but the treatment we never gamble with. Many people may be able to relate to the emotional side of infertility, but what they don't get is how it so controls every aspect of your life. I couldn't stop seeing a doctor for ever a couple of days, I checked in with the TSA about how to bring my needles and medication on the plane, I always have to make sure when it is time to give myself my shot I am with my medication, supplies and supposedly in a convenient place to do it - though I was privileged to give myself a shot on a turbulent plane. I refuse to gamble for treatment, besides the economic impact, the chance that there is something in my power to do - I must push full forward. The result is not up to me and I recognize that gamble and the payoff for winning...that's is something I would gamble all my money for.

Where has the doctor gone?

So we are taking a month off from treatment. Between traveling for almost 2 weeks for Pesach and insurance issues we are forced to take a break. You don't realize until you stop going to the doctor how integral to your life it has become. Waking up over an hour earlier on a regular basis to make sure you get to the doctor before work, showing up at work late because the doctor was running behind - it becomes part of your schedule and habit. I am at a lost of what to do with myself when I am not keeping track of which arm they should prick so I don't have black and blue marks all over. I'm not spending my morning anxiously waiting for a call from my nurse letting me know what the next step is, trying to be productive at work but not always succeeding.

It is such a change from how you imagine married life. Growing up in an orthodox home sexuality was not really discussed much in the home or at school. You get the basics eventually, but mostly it is a taboo topic, whispered on the side if spoken at all. I've become so desensitized to that - sexuality has become a regular topic of conversation with the doctors, nurses, rabbis and even between myself and my spouse. It has become a condition, an issue you must treat. I've learned so much about the female body (and the male's) in our journey through infertility, information that I definitely feel I would have benefited from knowing earlier. We are the most important advocate for ourselves, and we must arm ourselves with as much information as possible. Even when you are not in the midst of a treatment cycle, we must continue to learn about the obstacles we are facing. I am fortunate that I have found a practice that I feel comfortable with, I have a nurse who is always responsive to my questions. However, where has the doctor gone? In some ways there is a piece of that role in me. I would never assume to know what is the best treatment or what dosage to take, but I do know how it makes me feel, I do know the side effects I might experience and the emotional strain my body is enduring.

But, we are taking a break - the doctor is still in their office, hopefully sharing the happy news with some couple that their cycle was a success. But for us, for the moment, we have left the doctor at their office. We will hopefully return after Pesach (insurance issues permitting), but for now we will just be - no doctor visits, blood samples to give or shots to take. Though it might seem like an ideal situation, in all honestly I miss the doctor, I miss feeling that I am trying to do something, trying to bring us closer to having a family.