The LP has an expression in our shared line of work. Sometimes you have a heap of chicken dung from which you must make something that looks pretty or at least palatable. He calls it making chicken salad out of chicken poop.
Except the LP uses a more colourful word than poop.
While at the fertility clinic far from home I am staying with a very dear friend and her two kids, both under 6. Yesterday at breakfast, they introduced me to a game they play at mealtimes. The rules are simple:
1. Everyone at the table must play.
2. Every player must identify a high point in her or his day, something enjoyable or rewarding – a peak – and a low point, or the lowest one from the speaker’s perspective – a pit.
3. “I didn’t have any” or “there were none” are not allowed. Everyone must have a peak and a pit.
A game to make chicken salad from chicken poop – how perfect is that?
Those of you in the infertility and repeat pregnancy loss trenches or who are AMA like me may see where this is headed. Onward to the chicken coop!
My first monitoring appointment did not go as anticipated from the start. First, neither of the REs I know were doing my ultrasound. The RE who did it spoke so fast and softly I didn’t catch her name or the fact that she was even a doctor. As she placed a condom on the Magic Wand she was about to stuff inside my lady cave, I said, “sorry, what did you say your name was?”
Her name is a synonym for claw. How appropriate. With all due respect for her years of medical training and 15 minutes of experience as a practicing RE, she had the bedside manner of a snow crab.
Dr. Claw (anyone else old enough to remember Inspector Gadget?) whipped through the exam with lightning speed, momentarily showed me the clipboard with my charted data and said I had two follicles on the left (14 mm and 10 mm) and the same on the right as well as two smaller ones on the right (I think they were both 9 mm or one might have been 8, the other 9 mm), followed by “but these two aren’t likely to contribute anything”.
Unless they grow. Fast. I think that last part was implied because I don’t recall anything after her saying 2 of my incredibly modest 6 follicles likely would not “contribute anything”.
Thank you for that, Dr. Bedside-manner-of-a-snow-crab.
I have another monitoring appointment on December 31st. The anniversary of my first miscarriage. Three years later I still find the day painful and sad. We are due for some good news.
We played Peaks and Pits immediately after I returned from that first IVF monitoring appointment with Dr. Claw. We played again at dinner.
My pit was “getting some bad news at my doctor’s appointment this morning”. My peak was “it wasn’t all bad news”.
After all, there are four follicles growing and a chance to prove Dr. Claw wrong about my two late bloomers. And you never know, an IUI with a trigger if we cancel the cycle might still work.
Chicken salad, anyone?