We have cold, icy, rain. N’s run yesterday involved unavoidable deep puddles in which the moorhens were swimming. It sounded horrible. I stayed in bed. I have been sleeping pretty badly for the past 3 months now, and the bed is toasty warm and comfortable.
I eventually hauled myself out so we could go to the Jean-Michel Basquiat exhibition at the Barbican. We did the usual thing of getting slightly lost in the area (why is it so hard to navigate? There are signposts, for heavens’ sake!) and spent a happy couple of hours. I think N enjoyed it more than I did. I flagged massively. All I really wanted to do yesterday was eat…
We had cake at John Lewis. It was very good cake. Although they’ve changed their range again, and the particularly good, sticky, chocolate cake was either sold out or not a gf option. I hope it comes back soon.
I think the cake (it had pumpkin seeds on it) backfired on me slightly at 3am with trapped wind. After a worry that the cramps were indicative of something going terribly wrong, I timed them (madwoman) and realised they were at really irregular intervals: tough to tell without using a watch at 3am, when one’s mind is at a low ebb and one’s perceptions not at their best, and twigged that they eased with escaping wind. I could actually feel the gurgles. Eventually I rolled onto my front…and everything stopped hurting and I got back to sleep. A new cure for trapped wind, perchance? Squash it out? Or possibly coincidence. Either way it was a great relief in every aspect. I suspect much of the discomfort relates to the OHSS: the hormones sloshing about mean that’s really taking its time to go down, and there’s not a massive amount of room in there when one factors in a bladder which fills at the slightest provocation and a sluggish digestion. The bruising from the anticoagulant injections doesn’t help – all over my stomach, with a couple which are actual bruisey lumps (and I have a couple of super bruises from falling over a drawer and crashing into the radiator on Saturday. Am Seriously considering wrapping myself in bubblewrap as Arnica Cream seems to be on the Currently Forbidden list). I think I have an appointment with the anticoagulant clinic on Friday. I’m not sure: I’ve had a text notification of an appointment of some description, but it only says hospital and time. Not department. I am mystified.
So. Wind. Constipation. Lack of sleep. Huge boobs (honestly, it’s very surprising catching sight of them in the mirror post shower). Perpetual burping (mint tea is a huge relief. In fact, mint anything is). Bruises. All things I had not anticipated, but which I am vaguely embracing as this is all kinda miraculous.
Much relief and happiness. It’s still very, very early days. All sorts of things could still go wrong. But right now, I am cautiously optimistic and happy.
The two words “viability scan” are horrible.
It took me fully two hours to get out of bed. I cried in the shower. I don’t “feel pregnant”. I am convinced there will be a gaping lacuna where there should be a Thing1. I am bracing for a really horribly messy period (26mm of endometrial lining plus anticoagulants. That cannot possibly end well). Since the muesli episodes, I haven’t really felt particularly sick, just a bit burpy. I’ve been tired and emotional: but then again I’ve had OHSS and a DVT. I had a nap at work yesterday afternoon, in a wellness room which seems to have been overtaken as a stock room for refreshments for the mini conference going on this week. I haven’t been particularly hungry, and I feel the cold weather. Hardly harbingers of anything other than doom.
4 more hours until the scan appointment. I bet they run late. I bet I’m not pregnant. Again.
And I don’t need to go for a scan until Wednesday. Long may this hospital avoidance continue, as it’s all quite exhausting enough. Today involved a frustrating set of phone calls to actually get more blood thinner. I now have another five days’ worth as they’re still trying to get the proper prescription signed (since Wednesday. Once I have got this sorted, I shall be complaining, as this is ludicrous).
The nice thing is that I have hit my steps target every day, more or less, since Wednesday. I have also needed a nap most of those days. Tomorrow I am actually going to go into the office. Prove I exist. Pray my power cable is still there, and that I can find my lockable box…
It turns out, the chances of having a DVT with IVF is something like 0.4%. With odds like that: I should buy a lottery ticket.
It may have felt a bit like a strain (which worsened on movement, particularly when walking for more than a few minutes). There may have been a small bit of pins and needles, which mostly felt like a stiff plantar in my right foot. There was no swelling. No discolouration. No heat.
But, there was (is) a clot.
Two days after thinking ‘how the hell did I strain my calf when I was walking round the house?’ I had an ultrasound on my leg (weird. Particularly hearing my femoral pulse going. Which sounded like the indigestion I’ve been experiencing). She was really thorough, and gentle, and found a clot. Just one. Not very big. But a clot. My blood test results on Saturday night were borderline for pregnancy/a clot when it comes to coagulation. So, they sent me off with heparin, and an appointment for further tests.
Consider this. Many DVTs are asymptomatic. Until they turn into a pulmonary embolism and kill you. I got treatment within 10 hours of noticing an issue. I got a referral to a DVT clinic within 48 hours.
I cannot believe how lucky I am. This is easily managed. OK, it means daily injections (hopefully for the next 9 months, assuming Thing1 is still sticking in there – I won’t believe it is until we’ve had a successful viability scan next week. Seems like a long wait). It means lots of bruises as each injection leaves a bruise about 1cm across, as well as stinging like stink. It means a sharps bin. It means more appointments. BUT it is straightforward. It is easy.
It seems that I rested a tad too effectively with the OHSS (but when you’re told ‘don’t move except to go to the loo or to get a drink’, you do as you are told – the clinic will be reviewing this). I maybe should have worn support stockings anyhow. The chances of this happening were really, really small. But it happened.
I will be upping my activity when walking doesn’t hurt quite so much. And because I’m an optimist (and extremely childish), I have booked a spot in Basingstoke Half 2018 (7th October). The tech top is by Bonk Athletic. *sniggers*
So. If I’m not moving, if I’m coagulating more enthusiastically owing to hormones and OHSS… yes of course the next loop on the rollercoaster is calf pain (because how, how can I have managed to pull my calf walking round the house in a onesie? I have no idea – nothing went ping. Nothing was suddenly painful. I just realised…it hurt). There followed boring evening in A&E where no one could quite decide, based on blood tests, if I have a clot or not. Everything is a bit borderline. I was hoping for something more specific along the lines of “it’s probably nothing”. Not so.
Got sent away with blood thinners (more needles) and an appointment for a scan on Tuesday. I think we are all being a little overly cautious here, but it is not worth the risk. Blood thinners and scans are simple and relatively cheap. N says this whole thing is exhausting. I am inclined to agree. I also reckon my blood actually looked sticky when they took it out of me yesterday. Who can say?
In order to recover from all this excitement, I have hung my medals up. N put the hooks up last week. I am hoping to need more hooks one day.
I got the hanger at the Boston Marathon Expo. 3 marathons, 33 half marathons, no idea how many 10kms, and a few 5kms. Plus cakeathon and chocathons.
I am also knitting up a storm. And napping. I seem to have developed a tendency to need a nap mid morning or mid afternoon. Friday was particularly frightful. I did both…
I am now mildly hyperstimulated. I had a flare and then it dropped and this is all perfectly normal and a fairly good sign.
I am also convinced that all this hormonal rollercoaster has made me even more sensitive to some varieties of gluten than I already was. Today’s breakfast, thankfully, behaved perfectly. I had eggs and tomatoes.
I have also napped. Happy Black Friday.