Had an appointment to find out more about the lovely cyst brothers yesterday. It went a little like this...
Arrive at CUH Private Consultants Clinic 25 minutes early for appointment (well, I want to know what's going on, okay So I'm a little eager...). Check in with receptionist. Take seat in waiting room. Realise that there are a LOT of pregnant people there and even the non-visably pregnant have that smily-ness about them. Deep breaths...
Pregnant people are all going in through the midwife door, excellent. Hopefully they'll be gone soon. The Big Guy is as uncomfortable as I am and is trying his best to be supportive and comforting. The song we plan on having when we exit our wedding ceremony comes on the radio and he sings along softly whilst smiling at me. It's a sweet moment and everything is not too bad. Just then a HUGELY pregnant woman decides to sit beside me and start rubbing her swollen belly. Moment ruined. Kill me now. Also, she kinda smelled (sorry lady but you did).
45 minutes have passed, our appointment was for 4pm, maybe I should go have a word with the receptionist (at this stage the Big Guy is saying I bet you got the time for the appointment wrong, you did didn't you? You thought it was 4pm and it's probably 4:30pm). Reception lady tells me that he's running a little bit behind, shouldn't be much longer. We go outside for a cigarette. We come back in. We wait some more. The happy couples around us are chatting to each other, asking about due dates, what no. baby it is, etc. We wait some more. Big Guy gets pretty annoyed and goes up to receptionist lady and asks again "How much longer?". One more person in front of us, that's all. We go outside for another cigarette. Three more couples come and go. We're down to the last three couples in the waiting room and I'm starting to panic. What if it's bad news? What if he's keeping us until last so I don't come out of his office crying and freak out all the pregnant women?
Finally, at 1 hour and 45 minutes AFTER our appointed time, we are called in to see the almighty Professor Higgins. He doesn't ask how we are, which is a shame, as I had a pretty snarky retort for him if he did. He opens my file, the only green one on the desk, all the others are pinky-red obstetrics files. He checks that I am me (always helpful, 'cos someone else might want to wait for over 2 hours and pay €150 to pretend to be me...) and then asks what he can do. I explain why we're there, that we've been TTC for 2 years, just found out about the cysts. He decides to do an ultrasound. He can't find the cysts. I point out that the last ultrasound couldn't either until they did an internal scan. He decides not to do an internal scan (but, but, I shaved my legs [and other bits] for this, what do you mean you're not doing it???).
We sit back down. He explains what a dermoid cyst is (Juan-Carlos aka righty). I already know. He explains the risks of surgery. I already know. He totally ignores the other cyst (Frank aka lefty) until I remind him about it, he says that sometimes cysts can bleed into themselves, which my GP thinks Frank has already done. He doesn't know that. He asks if the Big Guy has had a semen analysis done. He asks if I'm sure that I'm ovulating. He says he was under the impression we weren't TTC at the moment. He asks me to come back in four weeks for another scan and then make an appointment to see him about those results about a fortnight after that. We leave, having paid €150 to sit in our own personal hell for two hours and gain absolutely no more information than we had going in there.
We go over to radiology to make an appointment for four weeks time. The ultrasound staff have already gone home. They'll call me.
We go home, defeated.
I called my GP this morning. She wasn't too impressed with what I told her. She said he's normally very good and I feel bad for her as she referred me to this moron. She's really annoyed that we were put into an obstetrics clinic, she'll make sure that doesn't happen again. "Just go for the scans", she says, "that way he'll have up-to-date information and have to move on from there. Make sure I'm sent the results too and I'll call him and discuss them beforehand".
That's my no-news update from baby-making purgatory. Hope any of you in the same boat are doing better than that!
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