Well, I've officially discovered the problem with health care. Apparently Doctors are mentally incapable of email, checking a computer, or reading a lab result.
I did my bloods a week ago, but they still haven't sent the results to my family Doc, and big shock, Dr.Evil hasn't bothered to call either. They even faxed a request to the giant monolithic hospital asking for the results to be faxed, but nothing...
Do you think it's really like Grey's Anatomy? Where everyone is too busy screwing everyone else to treat patients? I had always hoped it would be like House, where everyone rushes around and tries as hard as they can to diagnose the patient.
For example, my ultrasound results came back and showed that I had one nodule they could measure. Meanwhile, I watched the guy measure everything on the screen, over and over again. Basically thyroid nodules look like follicles on your ovaries. After this many ultrasounds, it's totally obvious to me he measured lots of little circles, but the report didn't say size, hot or cold, or any other criteria.
So I'm left praying for House to be my new Doctor. Dr.J. is great but she is not a specialist. She has told me herself that my case is too complicated for her. I really like that part about her. She is realistic about her skills and limits, and willing to get me help when I need it.
That said, I was crying this morning when I realized that unless someone helps me soon I may never have another baby. If I am considered borderline hyperthyroid, or TMG, some protocols say you should wait until the patient goes through several cycles of feeling up and down, basically until they are good and sick, THEN treat them.
I'm late thirties, I have only one or two weak crappy eggs left. I don't have time to do this. I'm getting depressed.
It's the hardest part about my losses, the feeling that my babies didn't have to die. If someone had just figured out what was wrong in time, I would have 2 beautiful daughters. My son could not have lived, but they could have.
Yes, I have 2 sons. But having living children is an interesting double-edged sword. They are so wonderful and amazing and fabulous that they remind me of what I am missing, at the same moment that I take joy in who they are. I've told my support group before that if they had kids as awesome as mine are, they'd never give up trying to have children. Because mine are literally the most amazing human beings ever created. And who wouldn't want to replicate that?
And now I may never get to.
I'm so depressed.