Diary of a Divorcee

I’m having an awesome hair day.

Day 1: visiting grandparents, antiquing and lunch with aunt, visiting friends, errands, sushi and ice cream with dad, curling up at the homestead with a book and both of my dogs, sleeping like a rock

Day 2: breakfast at my favorite place with my best friend, driving around town with the windows Dow, my favorite sandwich for lunch, seeing a friends’ new house, driving to Sacramento to surprise my other best friend, wine, girls night out, cocktails, cracking up, tall wedge shoes, PF Changs at ten, more laughing, slumber party

Day 3: let the fun begin!

Safe travels to me, my friends!

My best friend manages a luxury apartment property in Northern California. The property consists of over 250 units, none of them being cheap. It’s got the usual luxuries— a pool, weight room, multiple parks, outdoor grilles and fire pits. It’s three stories tall, sort of in a weird area. There are lots of different types of people that live there— professional basketball players included.

Yesterday afternoon a resident came by to tell my friend that she was worried about a man who lived opposite her in the complex. This woman lives on the third floor adjacent to the man in question; who, unfortunately, is a seventy-three year old man, who had previously suffered a stroke, had no friends or family in the area, and was a shut in. How he ate, I still don’t know.

She mentioned to my friend that for the past two weeks the sliding glass door has been open and the same lights had been on. You see where this is going, don’t you?

My friend looked at her records. His rent had been paid early, as usual.

“How long do you say this has been going on?” My friend asked.

“Two weeks.”

The woman left, leaving my best friend to freak out and call her police friends in the area. They were especially busy yesterday and never called her back. All she could think of was, the weather has been pretty spotty up there lately. The wind has been whipping fast, there’s been rain, and it’s been hot. Whatever was in there, it was going to be a mess.

Of course, today she finally was able to get a hold of the police. They came immediately and opened the door to do a welfare check. My best friend about fell over because of the stench. The old man was covered in maggots and rat feces.

I’m officially freaked out.

No matter what, I’m going to always be around people. I don’t ever want to be dead for two weeks and have nobody miss me.

Scary.

• Grilled tri-tip marinated in a red wine vinegar and Montreal steak seasoning
• Steamed white rice
• My family’s famous Caesar dressing on hearts of Romaine
• A popsicle for dessert!

That sounds like a good time!

I finally was able to speak to my RE on the phone this morning, after calling twice and finally talking to her nurse. She read my results to herself, then read them to me. I had a progesterone level of 12.5. When you are doing medicated cycles they want your progesterone to be at least 15.

Bummer.

Of course, I’m still happy that I ovulated.

She told me not to discount this month just yet when I asked her for a prescription for next month’s Clomid.

“You call me vhen you get your period, that vay I write you prescription. You never know, you could be pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to get my hopes up.” I told her.

“Next month ve start Clomid at 100mg, you call me on Day 1.” I barely hear her accent now.

I thanked her, thought about how happy I am with her care and continued getting ready.

A few minutes later I was out the door, headed to base to my other doctor’s office. The base is so close it takes me five minutes to get there. I walked right in and the nurse called me back for the normal preliminary questions, most of which I answer ‘no’ to.

Are you in any pain? Does your husband hit you? Do you feel depressed? When was your last month’s period? Do you use birth control? Do you have a short fuse with your children?

The doctor came in a few minutes later. He’s an older, short Asian man with glasses and the beginnings of cataracts. Hi lab coat is too long, his fingers are too short. He always greets his patients with a handshake— and his hands are baby soft.

I speak to him in medical terms, letting him know that I know my stuff. I explain the treatment I’ve been getting at the RE’s office. He seems surprised that it’s gone this far.

“So, I’d like a referral to the Naval Medical Center in San Diego, as well as a prescription for prenatal vitamins.”

“Easy enough. Do you want to pick it up at the main base pharmacy?” He asks, alluding to the base that is forty minutes away.

“I really don’t have the time.”

“Alright, I’ll give you a written…” It’s something almost nobody on base gets, a written prescription to take to the local pharmacy. In order to get your meds, you usually have to drive the forty minutes to pick them up. I felt like I was getting the golden ticket.

“Thank you so much, doctor.” I pour it on thick.

“Anything for a good patient.” He smiles. He knows I’m working him over.

Now all I have to do is pick up the prescription….

The rest of my day will be spent packing. I’m getting so excited!

In three minutesi can call the doctor.

In 24 hours I will have already been on the road for two hours.

I wish the beauty supply was open this early. I have to dye my hair, it’s revolting.

I never really got to sleep last night because I was too excited.

I’m a scatter brain!

I’ve spent the past couple of days surfing google and quietly enduring a stitch I’ve had in my right ovary, the one I ovulated from. My google searches started off with “ectopic pregnancy and Clomid;” for some reason, my mind instantly turned pessimistic on me.

I probably got pregnant ectopically was my first real thought. My RE will have to clip both my tubes was my second thought.

Now, thankfully, I don’t believe either of those thoughts are plausible.

Instead, my google search finally led me o the trail of “ovary pain during ovulation with Clomid” which led me to a thread on a message board about numerous women experiencing ovarian pain on the side they ovulated o. With Clomid due to slight overstimulation.

Insert my second huge sigh of relief for the day.

Honestly, now that I’ve looked up a little more information on the progesterone tests, they really don’t tell you much… It’s so vague. Theoretically, the doctor wants to see a number of at least 15 because I was on a medicated cycle. But, a number of 15 could indicate early pregnancy. Anything higher than that, I’ll be jumping for joy! Anything lower than 9, I’ll be swilling wine straight from the barrel as soon as I get back to my hometown. Just kidding, or am I?

This is exactly why I don’t ask for the numbers at most of my appointments… All I do is obsess over them, making up pregnancy algorithms in my head. It’s no bueno.

vegkat:

I love you guys.

I know I’ve said this before, but I have had a less than stellar experience at LabCorp of America phlebotomy lab in our little town.

The customer service in the front end is usually great. The receptionist calls you up immediately, the wait is usually short and it’s always friendly service. They are lacking in the following areas— cleanliness, sometimes when I go in I have the urge to pour bleach over the entire lab. That’s not a good sign. Also, there is one lab technician that I have an issue with— she’s very apathetic about her job. I feel rotten for saying this, but she weighs well over 350 pounds and has extremely poor hygiene. I can smell her body odor every time she draws my blood. Not only do I get a little queasy because of the sticks, but her smell makes me nauseous. And she always has to stick me at least twice. The first three times she did blood work on me she had to stick me three times. Now I know what type of needle she needs to use, so it’s less.

I really want to write a very respectful complaint letter, but I feel so awful about it. What if she loses her job? Will I be to blame?

This morning when I went in to have my blood drawn, I prayed she wouldn’t be there. No such luck. Then I prayed that I would have the other lab technician. No such luck there, either.

She stuck me twice, apologized three times and then let me go on my merry way. My lab slip had the word STAT in large print at the top of the paper, so did the printout the receptionist gave me.

“What time should I call my doctor in order to get the results?” I asked her.

“Around three in the afternoon; they should have received it by then.”

I know this doesn’t make a difference in this day and age when technology rules, but my RE’s office is right across the hallway. I was expecting the results to be on time.

I called at 3:30 this afternoon. “I’m sorry Mrs. H, the results aren’t in yet.”

“It’s too early, I grumbled to myself.”

I called again at 4:45. I could have almost guaranteed the results would be in.

“Nope, they still aren’t here. Probably will be any minute. Call tomorrow morning when we open. That way we can have your doctor look at the results and decide if she wants to see you.”

Okay. I guess it would be nice to potentially have the opportunity for a last minute appointment with the RE. Especially if the number is extremely high, or something.

I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, though. I felt like the apathetic lab technician probably lost my paperwork. She was too concerned about a clogged toilet while she was taking my blood.

Immediately I called the lab. Of course, you can’t get through to an actual person because they don’t list the receptionist’s line, only the National hub call center. I went ahead and called the call center, hoping for a customer service representative who wasn’t exhausted, cranky or having a bad day.

“Hi, my name is Katherine H,” I sweetly explained my predicament to the female representative who answered my call. You get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.

“Let me call the lab for you and check on the situation.” She was as cheery as a cherry on top of an ice cream sundae.

“Thank you.”

After five minutes of being on hold she came back on the line, “I’m sorry Mrs. H, it looks like we don’t have any lab work in our system for you today. We especially don’t have any that is listed STAT.”

I proceeded to freak out internally, but I kept my cool. “Well, I really need those tests for my fertility treatments. Are you sure you can’t look again, please?”

Something must have struck a chord. “Let me call my shift manager.”

After another ten minutes of being on hold she came back on the line, “I’m so sorry for making you wait, Mrs. H. It seems as though your sample was misplaced in the shuffle of things and has yet to be processed. We did note that it was ordered STAT; someone is working on it this very instant.”

I sighed with relief. “Thank you so much for checking on this for me. You did a fantastic job! Does that mean the results will be at my doctor’s office by tomorrow morning?” 

“Most certainly, the results will be there this evening.”

“Thank you again.”

I got off the phone feeling like I’d done the right thing. I followed through on a guy feeling and came out on top.

Now I’m wrestling with whether or not I should write a formal complaint about the lab technician that I’ve had a bad experience with. She’s lost two of my labs now; yes, this has happened before. Not to mention her malodorous presence in the lab.

What would you do?

To Do Today:

• Make doctor appointment for base doctor
• Do progesterone blood test (It only took the phlebotomist 2 sticks!)
• Have gel manicure, change toes to a French
• Go to Trader Joe’s
• Write some lists
• Cook Joe’s Special for dinner

Tomorrow:

• 9:45 AM: Doctor Appointment, ask for referral and prescriptions
• Get gas in my car
• Finish packing, doing laundry
• Make some cookies for my husband
• Load everything into car during the evening
• Go to bed early

Wednesday:

• Wake up at 5AM
• Get ready
• Start driving
• Arrive at destination in approximately 6 hours
• Let the fun begin!!!!!!!!!!

No more lists for the next two weeks! Hooray!!!!

Already another week has come and gone, leaving me here on a Monday thinking, “Gosh, time really does fly when you are having fun!”

It seems so stereotypical, but the past three days with my husband have gone in a blink of an eye. We had so much fun having friends over for dinner, going to the unit’s unofficial pre-deployment barbecue, going for walks, cooking together, and so much more… We’ve been so connected lately, so on the same level, that it’s scary. It makes me think that I’m really going to miss him when I go on my trip back to my hometown, but— and this is a big but, I miss my family and friends so much, I think I’ll manage being without my husband for a couple of weeks.

On the trying to conceive front, today is CD24. I have to go in this morning for a blood test to check my progesterone. I’m always sneaky and write STAT at the top of the lab slip. Hopefully it will come back before Wednesday when I leave. I’d love for it to say, Progesterone Level: 25, or some other high number like that. It would be fantastic news!

I’m not holding my breath, though. The main reason my doctor ordered this test is to double check that I ovulated on my own. She did notice that I ovulated naturally during my ultrasound.

Also, I’ve been strangely sore in my right ovary area on and off for the past three or four days now. In the past I’ve always equated it with ovulation pain. This time, I’m trying not to think the worst and imagine an ectopic pregnancy. That would be truly awful…

Tomorrow is my doctor appointment at the clinic on base. I’m going in for a prescription of folic acid and prenatals— doing that is so much cheaper than buying them at CVS or whatever. Also, I’m starting the paperwork for the referral to the Naval Medical Center for infertility. I want to have the referral complete and be on the waiting list just in case some developments are made in my treatment plan. I’d hate for my RE to tell me that it’s time to cut my tubes and move on to IVF without me even being on the list!

Then, the day after tomorrow at the ripe hour of 6 AM, I’ll be heading North back to my hometown. It’s only a six hour drive, but still… six hours is a long time when you are by yourself! I have a bunch of long podcasts I’m going to listen to. Savage Love and This American Life are my favorites. In between I’ll listen to The Moth podcasts I have saved up.

Today marks the beginning of a very busy two weeks! I’ll be blogging on and off, mostly on, I suspect.

Have a great week everyone!