I went in for my first ultrasound and blood test since starting the hormones Monday. My ovary looked like it had about 5 follicles: 4 small and 1 fairly large one. When they compared this with my Day 3 ultrasound, the pictures looked practically the same. (I tend to have cysts on my ovary these days – between the endometriosis and whatever else is going on.) And the blood test came back with a very low estrogen level. Their conclusion: my ovary is not responding. So, they doubled my dose o’drugs.
I am now taking 300 IU of Follistim.(basically, FSH). That means I have to mix my little 1 cc of saline with FOUR vials of powder!!! Arrgggh! Actually, it went pretty well tonight. My best time yet: 23 minutes from cleaning and setting up to clearing out.
And I am feeling pretty good, too. A little buzzed. Hmmm. Wonder if that will help with my deadlines at work?
I haven't been afraid of needles since I was a child. I can't count the number of “sticks” I've gotten in my adult life. There were novocaine shots at the dentist, depo provera shots every 3 months for almost 5 years, and how about all those blood drives I attended? I have "nice veins" I am told. Nurses seem to like sticking me.
I figured I could handle giving myself an injection to start off our first assisted fertility cycle. The shot would be subcutaneous, using a very short needle. Heck, I've stuck myself with pins sanitized in a flame to burst boils before. And I am a woman, after all. I've had worse, if you know what I mean. Finally, as my husband, Dave, pointed out: I have a very high tolerance for pain.
Last night I came home from work planning to give myself an injection at about 7:30pm. Dave would be around for assistance if I needed him, even though he hates needles. I figured he was good for support, anyway. I worked out on the bike first, wanting to let go of all the tension from work. At 7:30, I got all my paraphernalia out, and Dave cleansed the counter of the guest bath. I closed the door as he left. It was just me, three vials, a mixing needle, an injection needle, a syringe, and the instruction book, which I had read through several times. I had also seen a video at my doctor's office demonstrating all the steps. I was nervous, and still a little stressed from the day. But I felt ready to do it.
I started reading through the instructions and realized that I had studied the wrong ones! Urgh! So, the instructions I needed to follow were unfamiliar to me, although the basic steps were the same. I had vials instead of ampules, that’s all. But, for some reason it through me for a loop, and as I started mixing the medication (I had to mix 1 cc of saline with 2 separate vials of powder), I missed a step. The meds were not mixing correctly. The powder was supposed to dissolve in the saline. Plus, I had all this air in my syringe. It’s been a long time since junior year chemistry.
Because I didn’t know how much saline I had mixed with the meds, and how much of the meds I had in my syringe, with the air, I decided to start over. I was also worried that my mixing needle might have gotten contaminated. I yelled for Dave. He came in reluctantly and said, “I hate needles!” But he also suggested that I start over after practicing with the ruined medication. He demonstrated a slow and careful handling of the syringe, needle, and vials, even though he hates needles, and then watched as I walked through the steps with the mixing needle. I then made him stand there while I did the final mixing of the medication, asking at every step, “Does that look right to you?” “Do I have enough liquid?” “Has the powder dissolved enough?” Good husband. Good husband.
When we were both satisfied, Dave quickly exited, and, at 8:30, I gave myself the injection. I had practiced on an orange, and, although a friend who had injected the same hormone said it hurt so much that she had to have her husband do it, it went in easily and without incident. It did sting and burn, as my friend had warned, but it was no big thing.
Dave said as I came down the stairs, “You are very brave!” I thanked him, but I am thinking now, we are both brave. He faced handling those awful needles, and I faced a mixing medication and giving myself an injection. I knew I never wanted to be a doctor, but now I feel I have learned a new skill. I hope not to have to use it too often!