Plan B

The word ‘defeated’ also applies to Denny when I get home and see him. What a horrific day! In less than a full conversation it’s decided: we’re not going back to this hospital. We have no trust in them, and the more we talk about it, the more I think: how can this be an academic/ training hospital?!

After our conversation I start Googling. I didn’t want to, but needs must. Just about everything I find about IUI indicates that it always goes together with scans. You see, I’m not mad! You can do things very differently, but why not there?? Denny and I discuss the different hospitals, and choose one ‘nearby’: the hospital in Bergen op Zoom.

The day after our failed IUI attempt, I phone Bergen op Zoom to ask whether we can go there. To make a long story short: “Yes, but you need a referral from your GP (huh? I’ve been at another hospital, but I need to get a referral from my GP?) and the file from the previous hospital needs to be in our possession before we can make an appointment.”

Ok, that’s got to be possible. I phone the GP immediately, but have to make an appointment to get the referral letter, says the receptionist. It can’t be done telephonically. Sigh. Ok, I’ll be there at 8:30 the next morning, fine.

After that I phone the hospital where everything went wrong, to see if they can email our file to me. You’d think in 2014a medical file can easily be emailed, right? No way! No, a file needs to be requested in writing, and usually you can then collected in person at the hospital, but with a ‘fertility file’ that’s not possible, because “it takes 6 weeks before we can send that on,” says the lady on the phone…

What?! 6 weeks?1 But then I’ll miss another cycle.

This is the moment at which I break. I start to cry, and not just a little bit either. I can’t talk any more, because I’m trying not to cry, but I’m not succeeding. Denny is looking at me with a questioning look on his face, but I just can’t say anything.

I can hear the lady on the phone say: “Ma’am? Ma’am? Ma’am, are you ok?” With a shaky voice I finally say, “No, everything is going wrong. If it takes 6 weeks, then we miss ANOTHER cycle. Is it not possible to get the file here sooner?” Apparently the tears make an impression, because she suddenly sounds totally different and says she’ll do everything she can to get the file to us on time. In a small voice, I thank her.

The next day at 8:30am, I’m sitting in the doctor’s waiting room, and I only get called in at 9:30! When I tell her why I’m there, she says: “You could have just phoned about that.” Sigh. Really?! “I wanted to, but the receptionist said it wasn’t allowed!”. The doctor gives me a strange look, and writes the letter, and I immediately fax it to the hospital.

Then I call them, and I promise that I will bring our file to the appointment. A bit of a bluff, but I’m hopeful that it’ll go well. An appointment is made for the 8th of February. I’ve done the maths, and with a bit of luck they can then do a scan immediately, and we’ll still be in with a chance for that cycle. I should be around day 7 to 10 at the time of the appointment. I hope that it works out that way. And that I have the file!

Hold thumbs…