Home again

Well, we're just back from the hospital, so where was I? At the last scan, there were four nicely growing follicles, and apart from a little bit of concern about early ovulation, I was quietly hopeful that I might get two or three eggs out of that.

I had a few more concerns this morning (possibly contributing to my weepy, hormonal state) when I had a streak of blood in my CM, which is often a sign of ovulation for me. I didn't mention it when I got to the hospital, but it did make me just a little bit pessimistic.

Anyway, first we went down to the fertility suite for DH to do his stuff. He checked the porn file to see if they'd updated it since his last visit, but reported back to me that it appeared to be the same stuff (since July - shocking!). Meanwhile, as he was in there for rather a long time (clearly a thorough inspection), I was outside worrying about whether he was having trouble marshalling his troops.

His work was eventually done, the file checked to his satisfaction, and we were taken up to the ward. I've never gone private before, and was quite impressed that we had our own room with proper walls and everything (no flimsy curtains in a private hospital!) and our own en suite bathroom.

There were then a couple of minor dramas (Jeannie, please don't mention this to anyone else - as far as the rest of the family are concerned, everything was perfect).

First, they took my temperature when admitting me and it was 38 (which meant nothing to me, as apart from my BBT charting I work in Fahrenheit - now that I'm back home with Google I know that translates to 100.4). This could have been a deal-breaker, as it counts as a high enough fever to cause concern. Of course, I couldn't drink anything to bring it down, but I kept splashing my face with cold water and when they retested I'd managed to get it down under 100, so they agreed to go ahead.

Once I'd put my gown on, then taken it off and put it back on the right way round after the nurse had turned up and seen me, a nurse walked me down to theatre. (For the record, it goes on backwards.)

When we got to theatre, I realised why it has that name - there was a substantial audience waiting for me. I was pleased to see Nurse Perfect standing in the background with her reassuring smile, but there was a cast of thousands between us - I felt like quite the celebrity. Mr No Nonsense got me to sign yet another consent form, then the anaesthetist stepped forward. We'll call him Dr Butcher.

Dr Butcher stuck a needle in my hand, fiddled around a bit, muttered that he hadn't got the vein and took it out again. This happened three times before he gave up on my hand and decided to go for the inside of my elbow instead. He rather accusingly said, "You've got very small, delicate veins, haven't you?", to which I responded, "Well, some part of me had to be."

They eventually found a vein and put me to sleep, and apparently another minor drama happened while I was asleep, as when they woke me up I was told they had intended just to give me sedation but had trouble maintaining my airway and had to give me a full general anaesthetic and stick a tube down my throat. It doesn't seem to have had any negative effect whatsoever, and they weren't worried, so nor am I.

I vaguely remember waking up and saying to the person who was looming over me, "I can see two of you." Then I drifted off again, and the next time I woke up the first thing I did was to look at my hand. So here's the news we've been waiting for (drumroll please).... I got a whole boxful!!!!

That's right - count them out. I got one - two - three - four - five - SIX. S-I-X eggs! Out of my four follicles. How amazing are my ovaries?!

When we got back up to the ward my temperature was still up, so they gave me paracetamol to bring it down. By the time we left the hospital it was 37.5 (99.5) - no idea what caused that, but I feel fine.

I had something to eat and drink, did my statutory wee (yes, apparently it's illegal in this country to let people go after a general anaesthetic before the two hour recovery period is over and they've had something to eat and drink and produced a wee) and then texted my friend to pick us up.

Some of the post-op stuff was done by a student nurse. All I'll say about her is that clearly the drip removal and post-op observation lessons at her college precede the bedside manner lessons - not that she was rude, but her communication skills weren't the best.

I don't know what they've done to me, but I have a great counter-irritant in the form of a very sore left calf. The nurses didn't seem worried about it, so again, I'm not. And my stomach is no more sore than it has been for the past few days, so all in all, I'm pretty pleased with how well it's all gone so far. Just as well, as I have to go into the office tomorrow and do a bit of teaching.

Now my prayers turn to fertilisation - I'm hoping DH's boys are sweet-talking my girls, getting them drunk and wheedling their way into their affections.