Weeeeeeeellllllll, the fasting prolactin test did not go well. Neither did the third “checking for false positive” prolactin test. In fact, none of the prolactin tests have gone well at all. I have failed all 3 of them. So, last week, I had my MRI. My wife and I have nicknamed the (potential) tumor Tillie. Any unnecessary growth on or in one’s body should have an alliterative name, I think.
(not my brain, but someone’s)
I was really afraid of the MRI itself. I am a tad claustrophobic, so the thought of having my head in a cage for 45 minutes was not all that appealing. My wife went with me to the appointment, and was permitted to hold my ankle during the test (I am not kidding – she stood there for 45 minutes and held my ankle so I would not be afraid. What a trooper!). I kept my eyes closed the entire time, because if I opened them, I could see the head-cage about ONE INCH IN FRONT OF MY FACE, which was a little terrifying. So I kept them closed. Now, I ask you, what happens if you make a person work until 1 am, then put them lying down on a comfortable pillow with their eyes shut for 45 minutes? Oh yes, I fell asleep during the MRI. Never mind the head cage, the frequent waves of fear, the incredibly loud noises, or the fact that I had forced my wife to stand for 45 minutes holding my ankle. Within about 10 minutes, I had dropped off. So all in all, the MRI wasn’t as bad as I had feared.
The most difficult part of this, actually, was not the MRI. Instead, it has been the lack of communication from my doctor. I had high hopes for this second reproductive endocrinologist, but I really don’t know at this point what’s going on or what to expect. I don’t know whether I have a tumor, despite the fact that I had my MRI 6 days ago. If Tillie exists, I don’t know whether she is something that will prevent me from getting pregnant. I don’t know if we were supposed to move forward with selecting a donor and have our “sperm donor consultation” (whatever that is) while this was all getting sorted out. I don’t know if my prolactin levels are high enough to cause any other symptoms. I don’t really know what those other symptoms would be, what I should be looking for. I don’t know anything at all. The few friends and family that I have told about this have peppered me with questions, and all of my responses can be sourced back to Web MD.
The truth is, I haven’t spoken to my doctor in a month. I have called about four times now, saying that I have questions, and either no one will call me back, or someone else will call me back, but never my doctor. These various people who call me back, sometimes they are nurses, sometimes are secretaries, sometimes don’t tell what their job is. Sometimes, they give me conflicting answers, sometimes they don’t give me any answers at all. It’s so frustrating.
The one thing I do know is that the office only does the “sperm donor consultation” meetings on Tuesday mornings, and that without one, they won’t inseminate you. I also know that I am going to ovulate this weekend. So, since today is Tuesday, and I haven’t had a sperm donor consultation meeting (in fact, we have not even chosen our donor, because we DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING RIGHT NOW), we are going to miss this ovulation cycle.
I can’t even tell you how much this disappoints me. Maybe we should be missing this month anyway, because I have some kind of massive brain tumor that needs to be dispensed with before we can start trying, I don’t know. “Andie” from the doctor’s office yesterday informed me that I should have gone ahead with the sperm donor selection anyway, but I don’t know who Andie is, and anyway yesterday was a little late to be telling me this.
This morning, my doctor finally called me back, but, of course, I was on the train on my way to work, and by the time I got here to return her call, she was no longer available. I am kind of at the end of my rope about this, but what am I supposed to do? Find a third reproductive endocrinologist and start over? I can’t stand the thought of starting from scratch and waiting another 3 months to get this all sorted. I did decide to make an appointment with another doctor who specializes in pituitary tumors to move forward with treatment on that while my reproductive endocrinologist does whatever it is she does all day while she is busy not calling people back. That appointment is tomorrow. I just think it will be a relief to sit in a doctor’s office and ask all my questions to a captive audience who will be forced to actually answer them.
Meanwhile, of course, everyone has babies. After I yelled at Andie yesterday about why the doctor hasn’t called me back, I went for a walk to clear my head. As soon as I stepped out of the office, I nearly ran smack into a pregnant lady. My friend from work heard her baby’s heartbeat for the first time on Friday. (Well, fetus really, but you know. This is amazing to me – the thing is the size of a grain of rice, and yet its heart is beating.) My friend from the west coast is ready to go with her at-home insemination, because nobody is fussing over her brain and what may or may not be growing inside it. And of course, the park that I sit in when I need to get away from the office was crawling with babies yesterday. An 18 month old chasing disgusting pigeons around, a newborn on her nanny’s lap reading a Land’s End catalog, etc. (gotta love Manhattan babies). Just babies everywhere, for everyone, except for us.