Jumping the hoops

I am happy to report that, after all the strum und drang of the decision-making, we are resuming our regularly scheduled program. That is to say, the interminable waiting around for further appointments. There is, however, one small change to the plan to tell you about.

My appointment letter from the Ass Con centre finally arrived after seven weeks, for a date at the end of March. However, long before that happened, E. and I decided our patience with the good old Ass Centre was pretty much exhausted. So we started looking into alternatives.

This being a country limited in available licensed fertility treatment, our choices are not abundant. But there is one option worth exploring. That is the possibility of a private hospital (i.e. feepaying, not NHS) in the Other City, where E. works and where we keep a flat for him to stay at during the week. While not hugely convenient for me, this is a much simpler solution as far as he is concerned. And let's face it, anything to make E. happier about the prospect of missing work at short notice in order to go wank into a sample jar is worth considering.

The reason we had not gone there in the first place is because E.'s GP had previously gave it the two thumbs down. Apparently this doctor had had some personal experiences of his own there which were not entirely positive, in all senses of the word.

However, a preliminary telephone call to this other clinic revealed a much more optimistic timetable. We can have a consultation within a week from making an appointment. A week! Seven little calendar days, as opposed to sixty! Then, for reasons I cannot quite fathom, we have to see a nurse, the purpose of that appointment being somewhat unclear. For further reasons which are also shrouded in mystery, this will entail the longest delay, since it will take about three weeks to see him/her. Go figure. I cannot.

But before anything else can be done, we are both required to undergo several more tests, in particular a screen for HIV and Hepatitis B&C. This is a new regulation as of December 2004, and it irritates me immensely that nobody mentioned it to us before now. We would have had to have had it no matter where we went. I do wish, in the midst of all the rambling and stuttering about random nothingness, Dr Ticktock had actually remembered to advise that we would need to have this done. I could have had the tests done in January when I was at the GP having my arm stabbed for the thyroid check.

Well. Never mind. I have an appointment in two weeks' time for the further blood tests, whereas E. can get an appointment in three days. Lastly, for further entertainment value, I also have to have another Pap test. It's known here only as a "smear test", an unpleasantly graphic term which always sort of makes me shudder. And, while they are rootling around up my fanoir, I will also have a required chlamdyia screening for good measure.

Then, then, then, FINALLY- assuming these tests do not reveal anything disastrous- we will then immediately be cleared for takeoff for our first IUI at the private hospital, at the start of the next cycle.

It does perturb me a little that after a YEAR of preliminary testing, they have somehow managed to pull another bag of needles out of the magician's hat at the eleventh hour, another set of hoops to jump through. But it must be done, and so jump we will. Jump on cue, unwavering, right through the center. Hoping that one day, we will make it out of the never-ending ring, and at last, onto the next stage.