Even When It Breaks Your Heart Part 2

08232016 Even When It Breaks Your Heart Part 2 

I was 32 years old when I started having severe problems with my body.  I’d always had problems, but doctor appointments never answered any questions.  I was told that nothing was wrong and given ibuprofen and sent home.  In my medical record, a highly detailed doctor recorded my description of my symptoms.  “Feels like uterus is full of rotting garbage”, and “dull, chronic pain” were two of the common phrases I used to tell doctors how I felt, but no one could help me.  Ibuprofen and ultrasounds, antibiotics and urinalysis were standard prescriptions and procedures. Some doctors were kind, some were not.  Just like people in real life. 

I was turning into a man.  Literally.  I had very defined muscles, yet I wasn’t working out.  In fact, I was consuming more calories than I ever had, yet losing inches, and I was growing hair everywhere.  I went to my GP, who told me that I was in perimenopause, and that this was natural.  What?  At 32?  I guess it wasn’t unheard of, still, I didn’t feel that he was correct.  Three months later, I went back.  Something’s not right.  He tested my blood.  Yep, hormones are in check.  You’re just going through the change.  Go home, stop thinking about it.  Three months later, I was back.  I was confident he would find something this time.  However, all he did was give me a referral to a dermatologist for laser hair removal.  I called my mom again, crying.  She told me to call back in there and get a referral to an endocrinologist. Being demanding was never mom’s go-to emotion, except when she was in panic mode.  So, I called. The GP ordered the referral, begrudgingly.  The Navy, in all its wisdom, referred me to an Internist.  Poor Dr. “BR”… I unloaded on him and made it clear that he had one chance – one – to find and fix the problem, or I would cancel my military insurance and go out into town and pay my own dollars for an answer.  I mean, I had plenty of money, why wouldn’t I spend it on caring for myself?  Dr. “BR” found the answer (it was in my blood all along) … and worked me in for more testing and found a problem.  At least for my newfound masculinity.  I had a tumor on my adrenal gland, and I was producing about eight times more androgens than necessary.  My body couldn’t convert the androgens over to estrogen fast enough, so they decided (I’m sure it’s in their coding) to become testosterone.  Yes, you read that right… hormonally, I was indeed becoming a man!  But Dr. “BR” also thought this latest information would lead to the answers to my infertility as well.  Step 1.  Take meds to stop androgen production.  Step 2.  See Gyno.  Step 3.  Follow Gyn instructions.  Step 4.  Have faith.  Never once did Dr. BR promise that he could fix me or give me a child.  Not one time did he tell me this was “natural” or to “quit worrying about it”.  He was the most humane doctor I had ever met. 

I go back to GYN.  They set me up with a doctor that wears vibrant scrub hats.  I don’t know what the official medical term is for them, but they are the fancy hats that doctors wear to cover their heads that tie in the back.  His scrub hats always had chili peppers and babies and cats and dogs and all sorts of bright colors on them.  He was decent.  Looked like a 1970’s Jimmy Buffet, but a decent human being.  Great bedside manner.  His name was Dr. “Mark” and he looked over my records and listened to my story.  He told me that there were several options and asked me what I wanted to do.  I told him that I would go and research the options and talk to my husband.  We decided to meet back together with my husband to create a plan of action. 

It was during this research that I found an article like this one, Consensus on Infertility Treatment Related to Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. Hum Reprod. 2008 Mar. 23(3):462-77. [Medline]. which states: “Surgical removal is the standard therapy for ovarian and adrenal tumors that result in androgen excess. Surgery for PCOS is less commonly performed today since adhesions routinely occur after both wedge resection and ovarian drilling. However, infertile women with PCOS who are resistant to clomiphene citrate are sometimes treated with laparoscopic ovarian drilling to avoid the risks and expenses associated with ovulation induction with gonadotropins or IVF.”   

Did you read that???  PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome) – which I have, Resistant To Clomiphene Citrate (which was one of the drugs they gave me for the IUI AI, which failed, because yep, I am resistant to it).  The answer was in the research.  There it was, just for me.  I had hope again.  I went back to my record folder because I remember someone once telling me that I needed a laparoscopy (which seemed like that’s what is involved with something laparoscopic, right?) way back in my past fertility treatments.  I dug and dug and finally found it… Back in Virginia, at the Jones Institute… Dr “B” said I needed one!  And then, as I was digging, I found a record I hadn’t seen before (or maybe I had and just walled it off) … it was a report from our dear Dr. “Mark” in DC, who seemed like a decent person who wanted to help us, who gave us the IUI AI and the Clomid, but just as we were trying to counsel for the next step he went and got moved to GTMO.  This report also mentioned his recommendation for me to have a laparoscopy.  Funny, the woman who took his place never once mentioned that.  What was even funnier, is that Dr. “Mark” in DC had the same last name as Dr. “Mark” in Jax.  I dug ferociously through my records, searching for his stamp.  I wrote down all the info and went back to my discharge report from my last visit. I could not believe what I was reading. 

Dr. “Mark” is one and the same.  We go back in for the meeting and I bring my findings to him.  Here’s the deal.  I want ovarian drilling and here’s why.  Then I proceed to lay the entire story out for him.  I believe I am starting to see the picture as a whole now, instead of tiny bits.  I think God may have had a plan all along.  But my heart is still broken.  I don’t even care about a baby at this point.  I just want to feel better.  I just want the pain in my body to stop.  He agrees that this is the best way to make that pain stop.  He gave me a shot that day that put me in a medically induced menopause.  I would get three more shots before I could have the laparoscopy.  That was part of the protocol. 

I drove home in the early morning hours, after two hours of crying to my mother about my sister-in-law.  I didn’t feel any better, and I knew that there wasn’t anything that would be able to help.  I thought back to the laparoscopy.  The procedure went perfectly well.  Dr. “Mark” drilled out my ovaries (which were, indeed, polycystic), and even found endometriosis, which he also removed.  These conditions (PCOS and Endometriosis) are both associated with infertility.  When I was ready to talk after the procedure, I just knew that not only would I be a woman again, but that I would have a baby.  You can only imagine my heartache when, after three months of trying with the Clomid, I did not get pregnant again. 

*This is Part 2 of a 4 part series.  To read the other parts, click the links below: 

Part 1 

Part 3 

Part 4