No, this is not a post about that whiny emo wuss Morrissey.
We can all agree that I'm not exactly shy and retiring, right? As open as I am about many topics, I am always reluctant to contact a physician and let them know about abnormal symptoms that I'm experiencing. I don't really have a reason other than I don't care for hanging out with the doctor and discussing why my body sucks. Add in that there is only one profession that I dislike more than physicians and perhaps you'll somewhat understand why I'm not a fan of dicking around with this profession's practitioners.
Okay, fine. So I don't like doctors and I generally don't trust them. I don't have to date them, I just need their help every now and again. Now is one of those times.
I finally contacted my doctor about my craptastic menstrual cycle. The only reason I finally sought help is because I actually felt lightheaded on several occasions yesterday and I worried about how my son would react if I fainted. I skipped over my regular MD and went directly to my OB/Gyn because I think my regular doctor was a little too dismissive of my complaints back in late September. Besides, at a certain point it just makes sense to deal with someone who specializes in that particular area. I told him that the frequency and quantity of my periods are negatively impacting my life. I added in that my luteal phase was really short and mentioned that is probably why I've been trying to get pregnant for two years and only have one failed pregnancy to show for my, uh, efforts.
I would have thought that he'd focus on my Red Sea that I'd like to de-part, but instead he GRILLED me on my throwaway comment. He wanted to know when I ovulate and how I know that I've ovulated. He wanted to know what methods I used to gather this data and I get the impression that he thought I should be charting temps. I don't chart temps because it stresses me out to think of my fertility every single day. . .it's stressful enough to think about it only a few times a month!
I replied that I use both ovulation predictor sticks and the consistency of my own cervical fluid as an indicator of my LH surge and my subsequent date of ovulation. Seeing that in writing makes it seem like such an easy thing to answer, but it took a volley of four e-mails to get that straight between us. I felt so frustrated at one point that I wanted to respond that I'm not squeamish about slipping my fingers up my snatch and it's not that hard to see if my body is producing juice that is wet & stretchy. Seriously, it only happens one (two if I'm lucky) days for me now, but it's pretty obvious when it's there.
I'm pretty sure that he was skeptical that I was correctly identifying my ovulation day because he kept going back to wanting to know how I know when I ovulate. I guess this is a big mystery to most women or something? I finally got him to understand that I know what I'm talking about and was able to demonstrate that I know how to determine when I've ovulated. I was tempted to reply that I'm not a dumbass and there's a good chance that a woman has educated herself on female fertility if she's been trying to conceive to two freaking years so gimme a friggin' break, but I held my tongue. Or my fingers, as it were.
After our exhausting all day long e-mail exchange, he agreed with me that my luteal phase was abnormally short. I was pained when he also indicated that a too-short luteal phase can result in early miscarriage. You just know what this makes me wonder about. In that vein, he told me that things like this ordinarily aren't examined, let alone treated, until a woman has suffered two or more miscarriages. However, in light of the data I presented, he felt comfortable addressing the problem now. Ta-da; hooray for being a big mouth who doesn't let things go without a fight! And who says there's no payoff to obsessively taking notes about your vaginal secretions?
How will my too-short luteal phase be addressed? With progesterone suppositories. Uh, say what? Yeah, they go exactly where you might think they should go. He said they're messy, but I figure that I can handle messy. Geez, look at the ridiculous periods I've been having lately. . .yeah, I can definitely handle messy! And I guess it could be worse; I mean, they could be rectal suppositories.
I'm glad I didn't lose my temper and I'm glad that I continued answering his annoying questions. As I said last night on Facebook,
"The squeaky wheel gets the grease.
Alternately, the pushy patient gets the progesterone!"