Saturday 3 September 2016

There's A Fault On The Line!

As I write this one of my oldest friends is in slow labour with her first child. I feel all kind of emotions. Excited for the new arrival and that my friend is joining me on the mummy journey but nervous for her at the same time knowing what she still has to go through.

I find myself wondering if this time next year I could be holding my own new arrival. Another hobbit sized person in our home and our family.

The chances are I won't be.

I had hoped by Christmas I'd be giddy on Clomid again. I say giddy its more hot, hormonal, tearful and a bit sweaty. Yes, I had hoped for this but it would mean we are closer to having another baby.

After the cock up at the doctor's last week it now seems so far away.

Toy train on a wood track

Those regular readers will know from my blog last week, the one where I declared everything was shit, that I had a crap time having the blood taken. With the specialist blood nurse unable to get the samples there was a lot of pushing and shoving with the needle and me feeling like I could be sick into her lap at any moment. What didn't help was that she wasn't sure why I was there as the tests hadn't been requested properly but eventually we got there. I still have the bruise to prove it.

Hubs went and did his deed. Leaving his sample for analysis.

That's it then I thought to myself. We are all tested and the forms filled in. As instructed by my GP I ring and leave a message on the message board to say we are ready for referral. We are ready!

How fucking wrong was I!!!

As I ring to leave a message for her things taken a downward turn. I tell the receptionist to let her know we've done our tests and I've handed the forms in. I pretty much say this word for word. The receptionist says she'll book me in for tests and sends the forms. No, that isn't what I've said. This goes on for five minutes until she final notes down what I've actually said. 

I'm not overly surprised when she then rings me back a few minutes later having clearly not listened! She tells me I need to book in for day 21 bloods. I tell her I've had them. You haven't. I have. You haven't. I have. Ask the blood nurse I'm pretty sure she'll remember me. She won't. She will. She won't. She will, especially as I was nearly sick in her lap and we had a delightful conversation about child constipation. Well the doctor says you need them doing again. Can you ask her why. No.

I decide to not continue with the conversation and make the decision to try another receptionist the following morning, which thankfully pays off. It seems they have made a cock up and within a couple of days I have an apology and explanation.

They have missed a test on my 21 day bloods and we can't move forward for another month.

I am upset, frustrated and really, really pissed off.

The rate things are going this time next year we'll still be waiting for treatment. Still trying to get around receptionists to speak to an actual medical professional.

There's a fault on the line and this time next year we'll still be on the fertility train.

Mummy Snowy Owl

No comments:

Post a Comment