Jul
18

Thy Eternal Summer Shall Not Fade.

I was going to write this entry yesterday, but it is probably just as well that I didn’t, as it would have consisted primarily of the word COCKSUCKER repeated with escalating font size and number of exclamation points. Today I have cooled down enough to instead provide you with a dispassionate recitation of the facts:

Fact #1: My medical insurance (Blue Cross) has always covered fertility medications. This year, however, my employer farmed out our prescription coverage to a separate vendor, with much assurance that nothing much was changing—our copays are exactly the same, as is the amount we pay for our medical plan. However, as I found out yesterday when I called the company administering our prescription benefits (sounds like Haetna), our new prescription policy does not cover fertility medications. At all.
You will all be relieved to know that while the company will not cover so much as a tab of Clomid, we do have a yearly allowance for “Male Performance Enhancement” medication.
I am filing a formal letter of complaint with my employer, though I will have to revise the one I wrote yesterday, as the page is gooey from all the dripping sarcasm. Though at least it is an improvement over my first draft, which read: “I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY YOU SOULLESS CORPORATE ASS-PIGS! SCREW YOU AND YOUR HATEFUL, EMPLOYEE-FUCKING BOTTOM LINE!!!”
Ahem.
So, what I said Monday about not going into debt for this cycle? Not going to happen, with $3000 worth of meds to buy within the next week or so. And this pretty much guarantees that by the time we can afford a second cycle we will be using the complimentary retirement home shuttle service to make it to our RE appointments. So, no pressure!

Fact #2: I cancelled my trip to BlogHer. For reasons, see Fact #1. Also, I expect to start Lupron that weekend and adding the stress of travel to an already overloaded month is probably a bad idea. I’m mostly fine with this fact, under the circumstances, but I reserve the right to be pissed off that the circumstances exist.

Fact #3: Dr. Doctor, the only Reproductive Endocrinologist I have ever loved, is leaving the clinic. Her last day is this Friday. As in the day after tomorrow. I found out yesterday from another clinic patient, and confirmed it with a nurse this morning. Apparently a letter was sent out, but has not yet been forwarded to my new address. My care will be transferred to one of the other two REs, neither of whom I have worked with before, either of whom may fail to find me enchanting and instead pooh-pooh my research and wave aside my concerns. I am trying not to panic about losing the doctor I have seen for the past two years, but guess what? It’s not working. I still haven’t received my “official” retrieval date and prescriptions, which I was supposed to have by this morning. She promised me a late-mid August retrieval, but now that she is leaving I don’t even know if she is the still the one writing my protocol. I also don’t know whether she made it clear that I am to be referred to a hematologist, and I fear that my new doctor will look at the borderline but technically “normal” results of my recurrent miscarriage bloodwork and decide it isn’t necessary. Though I pity the fool who tries this, at least before removing all sharp objects from his office.

Mostly, though, I will miss the good times Dr. Doctor and I shared together—the thoughtful way she says “Now you’re going to feel some pressure,” her careful interpretation of clinical studies, her warm, sterile embrace. I even wrote a little poem:

I think that I shall never see
a more lovely, temperate RE
An RE whose hands are never cold
With research current—never old
An RE who surfs PubMed all day
Explains each test and each X-ray
Who found my cervix (with some poking)
And laughs at my pathetic joking
An RE who’s gentle with her wand
An RE of whom I’ve grown so fond

Many doctors there may be
but none as fair as my RE

When I get my meds, rest assured I will pour out a little Gonal-F in her honor.

By Alexa | Posted in Ceci N'est Pas Une Ecrivaine |