Monday, May 5, 2008

Just Call Me McNeedy

Lately we’ve been calling McNulty, our kitten, “McNeedy” (he's going through a clingy phase). I think that’s a pretty accurate name for me as well. I just can’t seem to climb out of this funk I’ve been in. I’m starting to think that a lot of it is hormonal.

It’s been a long time since I posted. I’ve been feeling very low, very depressed, and pretty damn antisocial. J’s been home a lot the last week, which has been great, but also has gotten in the way of my blogging.

So I was all set to post today, because I feel like it’s rude to just lay out a post like my last one and not follow up. But then last night I sliced my index finger open, because I forgot that knives are not only sharp when you’re chopping, but also when you’re cleaning them. I’m still hoping it’s going to heal without stitches.

What that means is that this is going to be brief, because typing hurts. Here’s what’s up:

1. Fucking crap-ass insurance company is hosing me. After telling me on the phone that of course an FET would be covered, I learn that it is not. The same day, I learn that my $3,500 FET is actually $5,000, because my blasts need assisted hatching. So now, counting the freezing, we’re at $7,000 for this cycle. The cycle I really don’t think will work. And I learn all this the hard way, after the incompetent ho-bitch who handles insurance at my RE’s office fails to tell me that the insurance has given her a final answer, and fails to tell me the full amount, before I go in for a mid-cycle sono. So there I am standing in the hallway about to go into the sono room and she’s yelling down the hallway that I can’t have my sono because I don’t have authorization. And I'm yelling at her that she can't stop my progress mid-cycle, and perhaps she should have told me that I would have to lay out five grand that morning. And she doesn’t believe that I’m already into my cycle, and that she said that was okay. And she thinks she DID tell me that I had to pay that day. Luckily, our shouting match was in front of my RE, who was appalled. She gave us the name of the office manager to contact about all the problems we’ve had with this person. But the bottom line is that I had to lay out another $5,000 today.

2. Estrogen is not my friend. I thought this FET cycle would be a breeze, because I’d been on these drugs before. But the quantity makes a difference I guess. Three estrogen pills a day now, and they are fucking me up big time. Every time I had to increase the amount I would get horrible headaches. And even now that those have passed, I’m dealing with awful mood swings, depression, fatigue, and overall bitchiness. God, I hate the bitchiness. Isn’t all this bad enough without me having to hate myself on top of it?

3. J and I seem distant. We’ve been spending a lot more time together, but I’m still feeling like we’re on two different tracks. Both heading in the same direction, but not on the journey together. He agrees, but doesn’t know what to do to fix it. He says it’s something we just need to ride out to the end. I told him that I don’t think we can do that—what if this takes a year or more? I suspect the problem is that he’s depressed, and it’s making him withdrawn. But I don’t think he’s ever been depressed, the real kind of depression, in his life. I’m not convinced he knows how to handle it.

I meant to be in a better mood when I wrote. Every day I try to pull out of this pit, to start feeling better. Not only is this depression and overall anger not good for me, I think it could actually reduce my chances of having this FET work. I just have to mellow out, cheer up, at the very least find some contentment and peace in life. So far, though, I’m failing miserably at that.


kate said...

I am SURE that the funk is at least partially hormonally induced.

And yeah, H gets in the way of my blogging when he is home on the weekends. It's irritating.

Yes, dear. Knives are sharp ALL the time. I learned that the hard way, too. I hope that you will heal without stitches.

Your insurance company are a bunch of SHIT HEADS. $5,000 is a lot of dang money to have to fork over with short notice. I'm sorry about that. And the insurance co-ordinator at your RE's office needs to be fired. That's just unacceptable behavior.

Estrogen is a TOXIN. It poisons our brains. I mean, most of the time, it poisons us in a good way, but I could see how taking lots of estrogen would leave you feeling kind of blue. It just fucks with our thoughts and feelings and reactions. Sucky.

I wish I could say something that would convince your husband to address these concerns you have about his depression. Maybe he could find an after-hours therapist or something. I know you said he works hard, but I bet he will find it easier to manage his life in general if he is willing to talk to a therapist. I don't know.

I'm really sorry that things aren't as peachy for you as you deserve. I agree. Find a way to mellow out, cheer up, etc.

Newt said...

Oh sweetie. Ouch on the knives, and ouch on the $5,000 and ouch on the estrogen. I'm glad you updated--I've been worried about you.

I know I can't wave a wand and fix it, but I am thinking about you, and wishing you the best, and hoping you find some more happiness. Hugs from me.

Ms. J said...

I'd like to go kick the ass of that b*tch who gave you problems. The "financial coordinator" at our RE office was an Ice Queen B*tch, but damn, yours wins the crown. WOWZA! Glad your RE got to witness all of this B.S.

I often felt the same way about husband and I as you recounted -- moving in the same direction but along parallel paths. I also remember thinking that I wanted to have sex again someday, just not with him. (Weak, but TRUE, attempt at humorous anecdote).

I am glad you checked in. I was gonna give you one more day before I called ya out.

How's the finger? I sure hope it wasn't the middle one -- you might need that for that woman from the RE's office.

luna said...

that sucks about your office. hope you re able to find a productive outlet for your anger and that the FET goes well. I agree the protocol was harder than expected.

peesticksandstones said...

So happy to see a new post from you! I've been wondering how you're doing.

Me, I've also been stuck in "funk-y-town" a lot these past couple months. But I think simply getting up every day and doing what you're doing is a big victory and you should give yourself a huge pat on the back for that.

As cheeseball as it sounds, reading that Eckard Tolle "New Earth" book and watching the online Oprah class has helped me pull through a great deal. You know, just trying to be in the now. And all that. Yep.

The money stuff sucks so much, too. My Day 1 arrived tonight before I could get insurance authorization for the FET, so I'm not sure what's gonna happen. And I wonder stuff like are they going to charge me another $1200 to re-freeze two embryos after they defrost them once? I hate people who never even have to know what the hell this stuff is about. Just kidding. Not really... (where's my "New Earth" book again?)

Hang in there -- I'm right there with you, about to board the crazy Estrogen train. Can't wait!

Ms Heathen said...

I'm so sorry for all of this - the cut finger, the financial worries, the evil estrogen, and your difficulties with J: you really do have such a lot to deal with at the moment.

I'm thinking of you, and wishing you the strength to find a way through it all.

shinejil said...

I also vote hormones. Damn, you have my sympathy. It's really hard to break out of a funk when you want to puke and rip the pike out of your throbbing head. You've been through so much, just on the physical front. It's no surprise you're down.

Assvice, based on experience with hormonally-induced depression: If you have an acupuncturist you like/trust, go see them. Not for fertility, but to help with the hormonal stuff. They may be able to restore enough balance so that the meds will do what they're supposed to, but you don't have the terrible toxic effects.

I'm glad your RE was witness to the incompetence, lack of professionalism, and stupidity of the "coordinator". As if all this weren't hard enough.