I had my WTF appointment with Dr. B. today, and came with my usual little list of questions, though these were perhaps a bit more hard-hitting than the last bunch. I warned Dr. B. though.
Dr. B.: Okay, I can take it.
Me: So the main question is, why does the universe keep fucking with me?
Dr. B.: I think…..maybe the universe is trying to tell you something, that it’s time to try BFU.
Me: But I don’t like that answer. The universe can bite me.
Dr. B.: I agree, but I think that’s what’s going on.
Me: Should I go on welfare and start smoking crack? Because that seems to work for a lot of people.
Dr. B.: Yes.
Me: How about all this stuff where people say if you stim longer or use more drugs etc., that can affect the quality of the eggs? I thought our eggs are what they are, especially at the point of doing stims, and nothing will affect them?
Dr. B.: (Scientific-sounding explanation)
Me: How about this mitochondrial stuff, i.e. maybe my eggs just didn’t have enough oomph to get them to blast stage, but they were chromosomally normal?
Dr. B.: They’ve done studies that have shown that of embryos that go on to be a pregnancy, those were the ones with higher mitochondrial scores, and the ones with lower scores that went to blast anyway, didn’t turn into pregnancies.
Me: Well shit. So basically my embies were just lazy little shitheads. It’s like they went to mile 26.1999999 of a marathon and said “ech, fuck it, I’m going to get a beer.”
Dr. B.: Essentially, yes.
After listening to Dr. B.’s well-thought-out scientific and fact-based explanations, and comparing them to my ideas as Pulled From the Internet, I make the only decision that can be made.
Me: Okay, so, ignoring everything you just said, if I do another cycle can we add more doping? I have a scientifically sound reason as to why we should.
Dr. B.: Okay, let’s hear it.
Me: Let me look at my notes here…..oh, here it is. Okay, scientifically sound reason: “Why the fuck not.”
Dr. B.: ……
Me: I mean really, let’s just all admit at this point that it’s a huge fucking experiment, a total crapshoot, with no rhyme or reason. Sure, we can try different things, but it doesn’t seem to make a hell of a lot of difference, for me or for my IVF friends. I see the same with them –it’s not like things improve with each cycle. No. One cycle there’s nothing, then there are more eggs but no normals, then fewer eggs and normal, then no blasts, and so on. CRAP. SHOOT.
Dr. B.: Basically, yes. There’s just so much we can do. But you have BFU, and everyone at ORM is rooting for you and him. Dr. Hesla was disappointed he didn’t get to do your latest egg retrieval, and Dr. Matteri was excited to meet you, and everyone else knows you and is hoping this works.
So there’s that.
In the end, Dr. B. helped me see that my scrappy little BFU has been waiting for his time to come into being. So has it been spoken, so it shall be done. We’re going into battle perhaps not with the little army of unicorns we would have liked to have…..but rather with the BFU that we do. And BFU has his own little army of believers, so if good thoughts and hopes and wishes can make things happen, we’re better than good.
I’m okay with that. Or perhaps not okay, but accepting that this is what we have to work with.
In August, after my summer of cycling glory, I get back to town and we’ll do the transfer, come what may.
And on that front, I had one last request for Dr. B.
Me: So yeah, since I’ll be doing all this cycling before August, can I get some more HGH so that I can make everyone eat my dust?
Boy, Dr. B. very often seems to have an emergency come up when we’re talking – that would be the only explanation as to why she bolts out of the room so quickly. Yeah, that’s it.