I'm more than just a cancer bore these days...I'm a fertility 'expert' too!
Well it's been another week of ups and downs. Another week of my body not playing the game. Of course it isn't. My body is apparently a grumpy bugger who enjoys making me miserable. Perhaps it's a protest against all the crap food I pump in to it (although I don't think anyone, even MY body, should object to the wine) and the lack of exercise. Perhaps, like me, it is just losing it's oomph and fighting spirit. Either way, it needs to snap itself out of it and give me a break.
*Warning - you may want to by-pass this section if great detail on the female reproductive system and all it's disgusting ways is not your bag*
My next fertility clinic appointment was due on the Friday. Like the local trains, it was delayed due to my period being on strike. Well, technically it arrived on time like it has done, like clock work, for years. But I had repeatedly told my clinical fellow and nurse at The Royal Marsden that they are ridiculously long. We're talking days off, rather than days on. I kept being told it was "an imbalance of the hormones" and it would sort itself out after a few months. But a year later, here we are - 3 week long, nothingy periods, coming back to bite me in the arse. Apparently this pathetic period is not enough to start my fertility treatment.
My appointment was moved to the Monday. And guess what...still not enough. A scan showed that the lining of my womb was at a 9.something - no where near ready. More worryingly, the scan also showed that my left ovary now had a 4cm cyst.
The mere mention of the word "cyst" set the tears flowing. Jim-Bob was just a 'cyst' to start with, before turning into the dreaded "cancer recurrence". How could this be happening again? This wasn't there 10 days ago when they did their first scan, how can my cancer be growing so quickly? How had nobody seen this coming? Why couldn't I just catch a break for once?
Terrifying and confusing and quite frankly, fucking annoying.
The nurses were absolutely lovely and after a second opinion, both agreed it looked like a 'dominant follicle' that had filled up (Yup. This is the gross bit...).
They explained that when a follicle 'pops' to release an egg, it usually shrinks back down, like it deflates. But sometimes, and apparently this is fairly common, the follicle can fill up with fluid, like blood from around the area. This confuses the body into thinking that an egg hasn't been released from the follicle yet, which is why the lining of my womb is still all there, and why my period is pathetic. My body is really doing a number on itself!
(On a side note, this may explain why my periods have been so long and rubbish for so many months, if this is happening on a regular basis. This theory only adds to my growing annoyance at the doctors at the Royal Marsden, who I thought were so flawless. If they had actually investigated a bit further after I'd complained so many times, they may have found this and put my mind at rest that it wasn't anything worse. Or, even more worryingly, they may have found Jim-Bob sooner. I know these guys are there to primarily kick the cancer's butt and not so much focus on my fertility, but the whole point of last year's trachelectomy and this years attempt to remove my ovaries but save my womb were to preserve my fertility. It's very confusing and very upsetting when I really think about it for too long.)
Although they are confident this cyst is a "dominant follicle", with my history they have to be really careful. They said they would send all the details over to my oncologist at the hospital ready for today's appointment and advised me to start taking injections to encourage my period to really get going. They said this could take a week or two, but because my body is clearly trying to do something, it may be quicker. I have an appointment with them again on Friday so fingers crossed we can get cracking.
Although there is a small window of time for this, I can't drag it out for too long. Good idea body, let's add some more time pressure and stress. That will definitely help things move along. Idiot.
*End of yuckiness*
Oh, and don't even get me started on the funding committee's decision to only fund freezing my eggs, rather than embryos. Apparently it costs the clinic exactly the same to freeze both, but the committee is adamant they will only fund 'preserving my fertility'. I guess creating embryos starts to fall into the IVF category, which would be a separate funding issue. And although that would be great for me if I was going to be able to have IVF and carry a baby myself, this isn't the case in my situation. The radiotherapy will destroy my uterus and make it impossible to carry a baby, so I will need to use a surrogate. And there's no funding for surrogacy.
So I'll have some frozen eggs, but will have to fund the creation of embryos and the cost of surrogacy. And for surrogacy alone we're talking upwards of £15,000.
It makes my blood boil when I think of the people who can just get pregnant, not work, claim lots of benefits, have a nice easy life and not pay a penny towards any of it. (I know it can't be as simple as that really but I can tell you of some examples that prove this to be the case). Yet I've worked all my adult life, I've paid God knows how much in tax (so I'm paying to take care of those children in principle), I do the right things, have never claimed any benefits until now (apparently £89 a week is a liveable amount of money for someone off sick with cancer) and yet will have to pay out thousands just to even get a baby here. And then the rights to my baby are with the surrogate mother! So if she has the baby and decides to keep it, the law is on her side! Plus the biological Dad is then legally responsible for child maintenance. On a child that's been taken away from him.
Unbe-fucking-lievable.
Yesterday was not a good day for me. I cried a lot, I moped a lot, I ate a lot. I was definitely at a point where I thought I just can't. be. arsed. I'm going through all this stress, extra appointments, daily injections, all to try and grow some eggs that may not be accessible, that may not survive freezing, and that I may never be able to afford to use. What is the point?
But today was a new day. I was still fed up, still deflated, still emotional but I was ready for a fight.
I was prepared to go into my follow up meeting with my oncologist and clinical nurse and be told that the delay in my fertility treatment was a problem and that we would need to go straight into the chemo. I had worked myself up, ready to tell them that they had taken 4 months last year between diagnosing my cancer and getting me any treatment for it, and that if they thought that was acceptable, they would wait an extra 2 weeks to give me the only chance I would ever have at becoming a biological mother. That I had been treated appallingly last year, and I hadn't realised it until I saw how quickly everything could, and should, move. That this was my body and my life, and what was the point of trying to save it when something I so desperately wanted in the future was being taken away from me. All the emotional blackmail and guilt I could think of, I was ready to bring it.
Turns out they didn't seem too concerned about the timeline, and like the first time I'd met them and prepared myself to fight for fertility treatment, they were pretty chilled and relaxed. When am I ever going to use all this juicy stuff, dammit!? Thank God for the blog.
As promised, the clinic had emailed my oncologist and she didn't seem too concerned about the cyst. I even had a photo ready for her but she wasn't interested.
She has me booked in for an MRI on Monday, just to get an up to date scan on the system and to double check there isn't anything sinister going on. Then a CT scan will follow in a week or so to start mapping my radiotherapy. Apparently it can still take 3 to 4 weeks from that scan to start my treatment, so with the couple of weeks delay on my eggies, it looks like I won't be rocking my "Babe you got this" first chemo t-shirt until mid to late June. Great news for our mini break to Poland to see Aerosmith at the end of the month, woop woop!
So let's all do a little happy period dance for me over the next few days. I'm aiming for a special guest appearance by Thursday, so on Friday the clinic can tell me to crack on with the right injections and Monday's scan won't show a trace of a yucky fat cyst on my ovary.
As a thank you, I promise to return to my Joe Wicks ways - eating well, exercising regularly, boring everyone with talk of how I'm eating well and exercising regularly (makes a change from being a cancer bore at least!) and having some more embarrassing pictures to post for your entertainment.
Come on, you bastarding period!!