one less mystery

In follow up to my previous whine regarding my chronic not-pregnant state, I now have the answer to the question of what kind of doctor our dear Dr. W is.

Was she the type to

  1. tell me to go away until it’s been years and years, because I look healthy enough [all the while, not-so-covertly rolling her eyes and making big red “hyperchondriac” notes in my file]? or
  2. be all worried and send me off for umpteen tests immediately?

Well, we now well know that we are dealing with a type 2 doctor.

I have in my possession tests for multiple days’ worth of bloodwork to test my thyroid levels [thyroid hormone levels and thyroid function are first things doctors love to test me for. Apparently, I look lacking but have significant proof that there is nothing wrong with my thyroid. And yet, they continue testing…], several ‘girl’ hormones and a good old CBC [complete blood count: red cells, white cells, platelet, hemoglobin, etc. ]. And I have another requisition for a pelvic ultrasound. Yep, the no peeing before you go in kind. Yay, me. I also possess a referral to an ob/gyn. [Dr. W is good at referring.]

She’s referred me to a boy ob/gyn: Was I okay with that? I’ll get in much faster and he’s really good – everyone she’s referred to him really likes him.

I don’t care that he’s a he – I’ve had boy Dr.s before and that’s never bothered me. As long as he’s a he who gets the she stuff, then all is well in my books. Now, I just have to see how long it actually takes me to get in.

But, I’m not the only one under the gun here. Mr. Q has his share to do, albeit a significantly less, though arguably more traumatic, share. Yes, he gets to submit a Sample for analysis. And, he must refrain from any activity that could adversely affect his Sample for 7 days prior to providing said Sample.

No, you probably didn’t need to know that, but it amuses me greatly [for now, at least – talk to me in 7 days] so I thought I’d share it. You’re welcome.

Now, we wait.

For dates and for phone calls.

Better yet, my parents are staying with us next week. My parents who officially know nothing of the attempts to become pregnant [speculate as they might]. How much do you want to bet that I get a phone call to book my ob/gyn referral while they are here and standing in the room?

2 responses to “one less mystery

  1. not only has that appalling thought taken up a niggling residence in my brain, it’s also far too entirely possible…

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