Fertility results

The news this morning took us completely by surprise. I’m still taking it in, to be honest.

We were at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh for our follow-up appointment with the fertility expert, to get the results of my two sperm tests and Jane’s laparoscopy, and to see where we go from here.

I’d previously blogged:

The operation was a success, it seems, and the surgeon said that he couldn’t see any reason why we shouldn’t be able to have a baby.

It appears that that was, unfortunately, far from the truth. (For once) I won’t go into details suffice to say that we were told that it looks unlikely that Jane will be able to conceive naturally, and that our best chance of having a baby will be with IVF (In vitro fertilisation). The waiting list, on which our names now appear, is between 15 – 18 months.

Under the NHS we are given three goes, free. If we were to go private the wait would be reduced to between 4 and 6 months, I recall, but would cost around £3,000. And for every 1 private treatment you receive you are deducted 1 free NHS treatment. Jane has age on her side, being under 30 years. But even then the success rate is just under 45%. But forty-five is quite a big number. And one of my favourites.

I spent much of the rest of the day, in committee meetings, in a state of shock, and hurting; as Jane did on the other side of the New Town in the DoE offices. It will take some time for the news to sink in. We totally weren’t expecting that, especially after the ‘good news’ that we’d received after Jane’s day (and a half) op.

Still, looking on the bright side, at least in April 2006 when this post finishes and we’re turfed out into the street we won’t have to worry about keeping the baby dry in our cardboard box!

Iatrogenic Jane

Jane is still feeling very poorly. This morning I took Jane to the health centre to have her stitches removed by the practice nurse, who took one look at Jane and called in the duty doctor who whisked her off to her surgery.

It was confirmed that Jane has picked up an infection and has been prescribed a course of wide-spectrum antibiotics. “That sort of thing happens, with surgery,” said the doctor. See iatrogenic for details. But if you can’t be bothered to, that’s illness caused by a physician.

Iatros is a Greek word meaning ‘physician’, and -genic means ‘induced by’; combined they become iatrogenic, meaning ‘physician-induced’.

Let’s just review the last few days: Jane went into hospital on Monday morning a healthy specimen of loveliness. On Monday afternoon she underwent explorative (keyhole) surgery. By Monday evening she was feeling particularly unwell, a direct result of the trauma caused to her body by the surgery, the drugs, and now it appears an infection that she picked up along the way. Iatrogenic indeed!

Jane is currently asleep on the sofa, having had a very rough morning indeed. She still hasn’t had anything proper to eat since Sunday.

Day Surgery, pt.2

I went to see Jane in hospital this evening. She was on a trolley (don’t worry, it wasn’t a shopping trolley) in a real hospital, where real doctors had done a real operation on her. One of them, it seems had touched the sides while trying to remove a small plastic bucket, and it had turned her nose bright red, like a light and then … oh! I can’t remember the rules after that bit.

Anyway, they’re keeping her in overnight for observation. That and she was feeling too sick and dizzy to even sit up, let alone stand, get dressed, walk to the car and come home. I’ll pick her up in the morning.

The operation was a success, it seems, and the surgeon said that he couldn’t see any reason why we shouldn’t be able to have a baby. We see the fertility specialist next month to get further results and discuss the matter further, including questions about assisted fertility.

The adventure continues…

Day Surgery

This morning, at 11:30, I accompanied Jane to the Day Surgery unit at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh (RIE). Today is the day she has a laparoscopy as part of the explorations regarding our fertility investigations.

It seems terribly unfair that all I have to do is provide a semen sample in a small pot, while Jane has to undergo minor — but nonetheless intrusive — surgery and take a week off work to recover.

I need to phone between 16:30 and 18:00 to see how she is, and see whether she will be kept in overnight or whether I can pick her up and bring her home to recover.

In about four weeks’ time we have a joint appointment with the fertility doctor to get the results of all our tests and discuss what happens next. But before that I also need to find that little pot again.