"Thank you for being so anal."
Oh, fuck, yeah. My obsessive pursuit of doctor's appointments and testing has been rewarded not only with renewed optimism, hope, etc., etc., but also the acknowledgement that I was right.
This morning we trekked down to see the new doctor-- we'll call her Dr. C-- after a brief set-to over the proper selection of make-up brush. (Goddamn. If you're using powder, use the powder brush. It says it right on the handle. I don't know what the complexion brush does, necessarily, but I know that it goes with the Complexion Perfection product from the same company, whereas the powder brush goes with powder.) We also squabbled about the appropriate route. Then we bickered about forms and how many times we had, in fact, inseminated in August.
Doesn't matter, though. What matters is that I was right.
Unsure what the procedure would be when a regular-type doctor was involved, I handed Heather a one-page summary of our baby-making history and left to get Starbucks while she saw Dr. C alone. Setting up appointments and getting medical records from Nurse Nina's office was an enormous source of stress and irritation, but it turned out to be really nice to leave Heather to handle things. I could go a long, long time without seeing another exam room.
Miz Heather dreaded and resented an early-morning appointment as she prepares for her trip and deals with work stress, but she emerged jubilant from the office, declaring that Dr. C was "a straight shooter" and it wasn't nearly as bad as she thought. Again, fuck, yeah. Dr. C asked Heather if she had used any fertility drugs and H explained that, no, she hadn't felt especially comfortable doing that through Nurse Nina, and wanted to see "a real doctor" before trying anything like that. I thought we were just waiting till we got desperate, but who knows what happens in Heather's head; she doesn't have a blog.
In my mind, the degree isn't the issue with Nina so much as her overall inconsistency and, now, the ever-escalating fees. This clinic has motherfucking equipment, and-- thank you, sweet sweet world-- they take insurance. Dr. C said, okay, call me when you get your period and we'll make you an appointment for a dye test. Then we'll go from there.
Today, there is joy in Whoville.