Plodding along
It looks like we are a go for the reduction at the California Pacific Medical Center on the 25th. (I can say their name here, can't I? I won't name individual doctors, how's that.) I never did hear back from the supervisor who was supposed to tell me how much the whole shebang (genetic counseling, nuchal, and reduction) is going to set us back, so I called the appointment scheduler back today. She nicely apologized for her supervisor's lack of contact and said the supe would get back to me either today or Monday. The scheduler also said something that made me happy (well, as happy as I'm going to get with this whole thing): namely, that she spoke with the doc who does the reductions, and he told her that his usual modus operandi is to do the nuchal and the reduction together. (Just like Dr. Enterprise originally told us.) So I'm not going to have to wheedle him into it, and he does this All. The. Freakin. Time. Which is what I want.
On a side note, just on the off chance that Dr. Enterprise would say, "Oh, him. Yeah, he's fine," I had emailed her asking her opinion about the HMO doctor who does reductions. Her reply was very much to the point, and made no bones about her opinion that the man was in no way qualified to do a reduction. (She did say he could deal with other perinatalogist issues down the line, should they arise.) So, we're paying for it. Stay tuned for the damage assessment.
I have to do a little circling back here and explain that the way I found out exactly who does the reductions was that one of the HMO nurses in their Infertility department called me about something else altogether, and while I had her ear, I quizzed her about that issue. (I also got an okay for the blood tests, which I'll do on Monday, when I go in to do battle with the HMO nurse/dragon. More of that anon.) The HMO is interesting ... some individuals there do excellent work, and some just don't. The key seems to be to get in on the scuttlebutt and find out who is doing good work, and insist on going to them. For instance, the doctor who did my abdominal myomectomy -- call him Dr. Empathetic -- was just terrific. He had the best bedside manner, and was incredibly patient in answering my thousand-and-one nervous questions about the whole thing. In addition, he did an excellent surgery for me, which healed quickly (though I do have a lovely six-inch scar below my bikini line -- not that I've worn a bikini since I was oh, ten) and apparently was quite effective, since I have since managed to get preggo with quads. But this perinatalogist my IVF doc warned me about? Uh-uh, I don't theenk so.
So on Monday, we're getting into the "insisting" part. I have an appointment to see a nurse at the HMO who is supposed to sort through my various obstetrical issues and help me pick an OB. The HMO has a "high risk team" of four OB's -- all men, natch -- who do their multiples cases. That would be fine ... except that I looked them all up on the HMO website, and in my layperson's eyes, it appeared that not one of them had any extra training to help them be a "high risk" doc. I asked Dr. Enterprise about this, and she confirmed it -- she kind of rolled her eyes and said they just had an "interest" in high risk cases. Oh, great. I really don't want a male OB to begin with, since it stresses me out terribly to have strange males looking up my cooter, and I feel stressed enough over this entire pregnancy. Dr. Enterprise gave me the names of a couple of female OB's at the HMO, who she said she refers all her patients to. Good enough for me. But I have a feeling I am going to have to pull out my lance and do some jousting with the nurse/dragon to get the OB I prefer. (And what if I do get the female doc and she screws things up? Then I'll feel awful about that.... Aaargh. Ignore me while I rip out my hair, please.)
On a happier note, when I talked to me ol' da today, he said that the visiting nurse had actually shown up and taken his blood pressure, and it was fine. Yay! He also sounded stronger. So I decided today would be a good day to Tell All. And now my father finally has the good news from Ghent regarding this little pregnancy. (I told him we were expecting twins, but not all the stuff about the reduction. We're really keeping that on a need-to-know basis.) My dad is a low-key kind of guy, so there were no wild expostulations, but he was puh-lenty surprised! But also very pleased. (Though mostly because I'm pleased, I think, rather than because he's been harboring some wish to be a granddad.) We didn't talk that long today, since he was starting to get tired, but it will be interesting to see what questions he comes up with about all this, once he's had time to think about it.
And on a minor note, I'll add that I did not feel ill today (unlike yesterday, when I felt so wretched that I started to wish I would throw up) and even made meatballs to go with my spaghetti. And ate them! Progress, definitely, since lately even looking at meat has made me want to hurl. It didn't hurt that the sauce had fresh tomatoes from our veg garden. We don't seem to be able to grow much in our garden except cherry tomatoes, but those we have coming out our ears. We have two kinds: some Sweet 100's that are tiny little things that almost taste like candy, and some generic variety that was labeled simply Large Cherry Tomatoes. Those are a little smaller than a golf ball, and are just the best damn tomatoes ever. And they're large enough to slice up and put on a sandwich, or throw into your tomato sauce or whatever. And they're mine, all mine! Bwahahaha! (Okay, I have to share them with D., who eats them by the handful. But luckily there's more than enough for the two of us.) And for some reason, bugs don't even look at the cherry tomatoes, though I've never been able to raise full size tomatoes without losing half the crop to the insect world.
Ah, yes, cherry tomatoes to burn ... and maybe, with lots of continued luck, some healthy squirming twins on the way. Hm. You know, when you look at it that way, things actually look pretty good.
On a side note, just on the off chance that Dr. Enterprise would say, "Oh, him. Yeah, he's fine," I had emailed her asking her opinion about the HMO doctor who does reductions. Her reply was very much to the point, and made no bones about her opinion that the man was in no way qualified to do a reduction. (She did say he could deal with other perinatalogist issues down the line, should they arise.) So, we're paying for it. Stay tuned for the damage assessment.
I have to do a little circling back here and explain that the way I found out exactly who does the reductions was that one of the HMO nurses in their Infertility department called me about something else altogether, and while I had her ear, I quizzed her about that issue. (I also got an okay for the blood tests, which I'll do on Monday, when I go in to do battle with the HMO nurse/dragon. More of that anon.) The HMO is interesting ... some individuals there do excellent work, and some just don't. The key seems to be to get in on the scuttlebutt and find out who is doing good work, and insist on going to them. For instance, the doctor who did my abdominal myomectomy -- call him Dr. Empathetic -- was just terrific. He had the best bedside manner, and was incredibly patient in answering my thousand-and-one nervous questions about the whole thing. In addition, he did an excellent surgery for me, which healed quickly (though I do have a lovely six-inch scar below my bikini line -- not that I've worn a bikini since I was oh, ten) and apparently was quite effective, since I have since managed to get preggo with quads. But this perinatalogist my IVF doc warned me about? Uh-uh, I don't theenk so.
So on Monday, we're getting into the "insisting" part. I have an appointment to see a nurse at the HMO who is supposed to sort through my various obstetrical issues and help me pick an OB. The HMO has a "high risk team" of four OB's -- all men, natch -- who do their multiples cases. That would be fine ... except that I looked them all up on the HMO website, and in my layperson's eyes, it appeared that not one of them had any extra training to help them be a "high risk" doc. I asked Dr. Enterprise about this, and she confirmed it -- she kind of rolled her eyes and said they just had an "interest" in high risk cases. Oh, great. I really don't want a male OB to begin with, since it stresses me out terribly to have strange males looking up my cooter, and I feel stressed enough over this entire pregnancy. Dr. Enterprise gave me the names of a couple of female OB's at the HMO, who she said she refers all her patients to. Good enough for me. But I have a feeling I am going to have to pull out my lance and do some jousting with the nurse/dragon to get the OB I prefer. (And what if I do get the female doc and she screws things up? Then I'll feel awful about that.... Aaargh. Ignore me while I rip out my hair, please.)
On a happier note, when I talked to me ol' da today, he said that the visiting nurse had actually shown up and taken his blood pressure, and it was fine. Yay! He also sounded stronger. So I decided today would be a good day to Tell All. And now my father finally has the good news from Ghent regarding this little pregnancy. (I told him we were expecting twins, but not all the stuff about the reduction. We're really keeping that on a need-to-know basis.) My dad is a low-key kind of guy, so there were no wild expostulations, but he was puh-lenty surprised! But also very pleased. (Though mostly because I'm pleased, I think, rather than because he's been harboring some wish to be a granddad.) We didn't talk that long today, since he was starting to get tired, but it will be interesting to see what questions he comes up with about all this, once he's had time to think about it.
And on a minor note, I'll add that I did not feel ill today (unlike yesterday, when I felt so wretched that I started to wish I would throw up) and even made meatballs to go with my spaghetti. And ate them! Progress, definitely, since lately even looking at meat has made me want to hurl. It didn't hurt that the sauce had fresh tomatoes from our veg garden. We don't seem to be able to grow much in our garden except cherry tomatoes, but those we have coming out our ears. We have two kinds: some Sweet 100's that are tiny little things that almost taste like candy, and some generic variety that was labeled simply Large Cherry Tomatoes. Those are a little smaller than a golf ball, and are just the best damn tomatoes ever. And they're large enough to slice up and put on a sandwich, or throw into your tomato sauce or whatever. And they're mine, all mine! Bwahahaha! (Okay, I have to share them with D., who eats them by the handful. But luckily there's more than enough for the two of us.) And for some reason, bugs don't even look at the cherry tomatoes, though I've never been able to raise full size tomatoes without losing half the crop to the insect world.
Ah, yes, cherry tomatoes to burn ... and maybe, with lots of continued luck, some healthy squirming twins on the way. Hm. You know, when you look at it that way, things actually look pretty good.
posted by Hetty Fauxvert at 11:00 PM
1 Comments:
Good luck. You've now made me hungry, though!
Post a Comment
<< Home