Easy Buddy
Bill and I had an easy Sunday. We went to G'day Cafe, read the Sunday paper, and had a nice brunch. Then we walked over to Asiaworld department store and browsed in an electronic store. We spent most of the afternoon at Starbucks - I was marking students' papers, and Bill was reading about a computer application program. In the early evening, we went to CitySuper (a supermarket) and spent about US$100 on Western food. We had miso-scallion salmon with asparagus for dinner. We watched "Starter for 10" during dinner and, if you enjoyed the 80s, we totally recommend the movie (Thank you, Ben, for giving the movie to Bill).
No stress. No worries. No thinking. We spent a quiet day together, and it was very nice.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
One Foul Day
I realized that my USB was missing as soon as I got to the office today. Everything was in it: all my teaching plans and handouts, my tax files, and confidential correspondence between the Coordinators. I emptied out my backpack, but it wasn't there. I searched all over the office and every classroom I teach in... nope. I called Bill to look for it at home, but he didn't see it. My last hope was to the teacher who used the classroom my last class was in last night, but I also feared that, if he was the one who found it, he might have read some of the documents that he wasn't, and is never, supposed to read.
Turned out, my USB was not seen or found by anyone in the school. I could feel myself getting increasingly irritated but I had no time to freak out. I had to head to the hospital for the blood test results. Bill met me at the front gate of the hospital at shortly after 4, and we didn't get to see the doctor until 6pm. During those two hours, there was a family of monkeys behind us, and the grandparents repeatedly told the boy that the police was coming to take naughty boys like him away. Scared, the boy whined more. It annoyed the shit out of me.
The three tests for ovarian function looked normal, which indicates that my left ovary is doing fine. Just when the corners of my mouth were rising upward, Dr. Legendary pointed at the number on the top of the result sheet: CA-125= 102.
I felt as if someone had just lifted me up so s/he could slammed me down HARD! I let out a gasp and my stomach immediately knotted up. The last time I saw a CA-125 value that high was in the winter of 2006, before my initial surgery. My heart rate increased and there was a throbbing sensation where my left ovary is. Dr. Legendary advised that I get back to Dr. Liu to have it checked out. His exact words were, "Maybe have an endoscopy surgery to see if cancer returned in your left ovary." I thought I was going to black out, but I remained composed and rational. Staring blankly at Bill, I translated what the doctor said. The throbbing intensified. My mind went blank.
Defeated, I sleepwalked out of Dr. Legendary's office. It cost me NT$377 (CDN$12) just to talk to him today. When we got into the subway station, rage rose inside me, and I felt like punching people out of my way. Everyone looked ugly and they smelt rotten. I actually barked at a few people who were completely oblivion of what was going on around them in a crowded station during rush hours. I told a coupled of airhead chicks to take their time walking at suck slow speed that eventually we might just get to the platform tomorrow morning. I hated myself immediately after those words came out of my mouth, but what difference does it make anyway? Being a good person doesn't make everything in life okay.
To top my one foul day off, the dinner we had was just horrible. My appletini was more apple-y than Martini. The onion rings were greasy, and the chicken satay was the worst we've ever had. In fact, because of the chicken satay, Bill said I should title this posting "One Fowl Day" instead. Gotta love Bill for his amazing ability to stay optimistic and for his quirky sense of humor.
I found my USB though. Somehow I stuffed it inside one of the tiny pockets of my jean jacket.
Back to square one we go. Gotta make an appointment to see Dr. Liu now.
I realized that my USB was missing as soon as I got to the office today. Everything was in it: all my teaching plans and handouts, my tax files, and confidential correspondence between the Coordinators. I emptied out my backpack, but it wasn't there. I searched all over the office and every classroom I teach in... nope. I called Bill to look for it at home, but he didn't see it. My last hope was to the teacher who used the classroom my last class was in last night, but I also feared that, if he was the one who found it, he might have read some of the documents that he wasn't, and is never, supposed to read.
Turned out, my USB was not seen or found by anyone in the school. I could feel myself getting increasingly irritated but I had no time to freak out. I had to head to the hospital for the blood test results. Bill met me at the front gate of the hospital at shortly after 4, and we didn't get to see the doctor until 6pm. During those two hours, there was a family of monkeys behind us, and the grandparents repeatedly told the boy that the police was coming to take naughty boys like him away. Scared, the boy whined more. It annoyed the shit out of me.
The three tests for ovarian function looked normal, which indicates that my left ovary is doing fine. Just when the corners of my mouth were rising upward, Dr. Legendary pointed at the number on the top of the result sheet: CA-125= 102.
I felt as if someone had just lifted me up so s/he could slammed me down HARD! I let out a gasp and my stomach immediately knotted up. The last time I saw a CA-125 value that high was in the winter of 2006, before my initial surgery. My heart rate increased and there was a throbbing sensation where my left ovary is. Dr. Legendary advised that I get back to Dr. Liu to have it checked out. His exact words were, "Maybe have an endoscopy surgery to see if cancer returned in your left ovary." I thought I was going to black out, but I remained composed and rational. Staring blankly at Bill, I translated what the doctor said. The throbbing intensified. My mind went blank.
Defeated, I sleepwalked out of Dr. Legendary's office. It cost me NT$377 (CDN$12) just to talk to him today. When we got into the subway station, rage rose inside me, and I felt like punching people out of my way. Everyone looked ugly and they smelt rotten. I actually barked at a few people who were completely oblivion of what was going on around them in a crowded station during rush hours. I told a coupled of airhead chicks to take their time walking at suck slow speed that eventually we might just get to the platform tomorrow morning. I hated myself immediately after those words came out of my mouth, but what difference does it make anyway? Being a good person doesn't make everything in life okay.
To top my one foul day off, the dinner we had was just horrible. My appletini was more apple-y than Martini. The onion rings were greasy, and the chicken satay was the worst we've ever had. In fact, because of the chicken satay, Bill said I should title this posting "One Fowl Day" instead. Gotta love Bill for his amazing ability to stay optimistic and for his quirky sense of humor.
I found my USB though. Somehow I stuffed it inside one of the tiny pockets of my jean jacket.
Back to square one we go. Gotta make an appointment to see Dr. Liu now.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Dr. Legendary
Rumor has it that the doctor lost his daughter to a rare disease after she had just entered puberty. He and his wife tried hard to make peace with the loss, but they desperately wanted another child. By then, the couple were approaching their 50s. Though all the statistics were against their desire to have a child again, he successfully extracted eggs from his wife's ovaries, and she gave birth to a healthy baby at the age of 47.
Outside his office was a list of appointments. On Tuesday, August 26th, he had 73 patients during his clinic hours (1:30 - 4:30pm). I was #40. While waiting, I got to catch most of the story of an orphan sea lion on the Discovery Channel in the waiting area. The researchers were introducing the baby sea lion to snow for the first time when a big red #40 showed up on the door.
Dr. Legendary is a bit chubby. He sat with his left arm hanging over the back of his chair and his belly nudged against the desk. It was a big room, and there was a restless energy in it. Everyone was fuzzing about, occupied. There were a total of three nurses in the room: one greets patients, another leads patients to the exam room, and one prints out the doctor's orders. There was also a young intern sitting next to Dr. Legendary. I couldn't tell if the intern was male or female at first. After studying her for a while, She's one of those people that would look good as either gender.
"Ms. Chang," the doctor sounded nice, "What can I do for you?" he was mindlessly leafing through my medical record while I settled next to him.
"You've been here before," he noticed, "from April to October 2006."
"And the doctor then was Dr. xxx" (Dr. xxx was the one who didn't take my soaring CA-125 value seriously enough before I went to find a second opinion and had the subsequent surgery. He is also the Golden Boy, the Hot Shot, and Dr. Legendary's favorite protege).
"If I may," I interjected, "can I just tell you what happened after my last visit with Dr. xxx in Oct, 2006?"
"Your CA-125 was really high here, and something was growing in your right ovary," Dr. Legendary pointed at the number 178.9.
"Yes, but Dr. xxx told me to come back when the growth in my right ovary exceeded 3 centimeters. I went to TriService Hospital and it turned out to be ovarian cancer. I had a surgery to remove the right ovary...." I started telling Dr. Legendary what happened. "... Since it was Stage 1C, I went through a course of chemotherapy..."
"Why did you go to TriService Hospital again?" the doctor interrupted.
"Because Dr. xxx didn't give me a definite answer of what the growth might have been and I wanted a second opinion."
"Who was your doctor at TriService?" I told him my doctor's name.
"Your CA-125 value was really high back in Oct 2006...." Dr. Legendary was probably pondering why Dr. xxx didn't pick up on it.
"Anyway, there's more." I told him everything, from the first surgery to the latest appointment I had with the two fertility doctors. I gave him their names too.
While I was telling the story, I noticed how the room became really quiet. The three nurses stopped moving about and were all staring at me. The young intern was frantically taking notes at first, but she looked up from her notes when I was talking about the second surgery. Oh, the next patient was clutching her purse close to her tummy. That poor woman. She probably didn't need to hear all that. They really shouldn't let the next patient wait in the same room.
"Anyway, the purpose of my visit with you today is to seek you expert advice. I just want to know what you think." I brought my story to a wrap.
"What did those two fertility doctors say?" he asked with a smile. He looked mischievous.
"They didn't sound very optimistic because of how much my left ovary has gone through. I understand where they're coming from though."
Dr. Legendary propped himself up. However, since his belly is so big, it looked as if he just extended his belly and pushed himself away from the desk.
"I'm going to order some blood tests. While we're at it, we might as well check your CA-125." He scribbled a series of acronyms on my medical record. "Come back on Thursday, and we'll take a look at your blood test results."
"Thursday of next week?" I took out my cell phone and noticed that I have 3 appointments next week, but I'm free next Thursday.
"No. In two days. Come back in two days."
Blood test results in two days? That's unheard of.
"In two days?" I felt stupid repeating but I did in disbelief.
"We'll rush it." Dr. Legendary said it with such authority and confidence I thought I heard angels sing and saw white beams of light shining down from above.
Then I asked a bunch of other questions and answered a bunch of his questions. As I was leaving, Dr. Legendary said, "Don't worry. We'll talk more after the blood test results. You're extremely fortunate, and you beat cancer. Don't get discouraged. Keep the spirit up."The handsome female intern nodded repeatedly. Then the printer started, and the buzz returned to the room.
I got teary-eyed when I walked out of his office. It was nice to know he had faith in my damaged left ovary. On the other hand, I'm still skeptical especially after my bad experience with Dr. xxx. I'm also aware of the fact that, to Dr. Legendary, I probably mean nothing more than a perfect candidate for his next publication or research journal.
We'll see what happens on Thursday.
Rumor has it that the doctor lost his daughter to a rare disease after she had just entered puberty. He and his wife tried hard to make peace with the loss, but they desperately wanted another child. By then, the couple were approaching their 50s. Though all the statistics were against their desire to have a child again, he successfully extracted eggs from his wife's ovaries, and she gave birth to a healthy baby at the age of 47.
Outside his office was a list of appointments. On Tuesday, August 26th, he had 73 patients during his clinic hours (1:30 - 4:30pm). I was #40. While waiting, I got to catch most of the story of an orphan sea lion on the Discovery Channel in the waiting area. The researchers were introducing the baby sea lion to snow for the first time when a big red #40 showed up on the door.
Dr. Legendary is a bit chubby. He sat with his left arm hanging over the back of his chair and his belly nudged against the desk. It was a big room, and there was a restless energy in it. Everyone was fuzzing about, occupied. There were a total of three nurses in the room: one greets patients, another leads patients to the exam room, and one prints out the doctor's orders. There was also a young intern sitting next to Dr. Legendary. I couldn't tell if the intern was male or female at first. After studying her for a while, She's one of those people that would look good as either gender.
"Ms. Chang," the doctor sounded nice, "What can I do for you?" he was mindlessly leafing through my medical record while I settled next to him.
"You've been here before," he noticed, "from April to October 2006."
"And the doctor then was Dr. xxx" (Dr. xxx was the one who didn't take my soaring CA-125 value seriously enough before I went to find a second opinion and had the subsequent surgery. He is also the Golden Boy, the Hot Shot, and Dr. Legendary's favorite protege).
"If I may," I interjected, "can I just tell you what happened after my last visit with Dr. xxx in Oct, 2006?"
"Your CA-125 was really high here, and something was growing in your right ovary," Dr. Legendary pointed at the number 178.9.
"Yes, but Dr. xxx told me to come back when the growth in my right ovary exceeded 3 centimeters. I went to TriService Hospital and it turned out to be ovarian cancer. I had a surgery to remove the right ovary...." I started telling Dr. Legendary what happened. "... Since it was Stage 1C, I went through a course of chemotherapy..."
"Why did you go to TriService Hospital again?" the doctor interrupted.
"Because Dr. xxx didn't give me a definite answer of what the growth might have been and I wanted a second opinion."
"Who was your doctor at TriService?" I told him my doctor's name.
"Your CA-125 value was really high back in Oct 2006...." Dr. Legendary was probably pondering why Dr. xxx didn't pick up on it.
"Anyway, there's more." I told him everything, from the first surgery to the latest appointment I had with the two fertility doctors. I gave him their names too.
While I was telling the story, I noticed how the room became really quiet. The three nurses stopped moving about and were all staring at me. The young intern was frantically taking notes at first, but she looked up from her notes when I was talking about the second surgery. Oh, the next patient was clutching her purse close to her tummy. That poor woman. She probably didn't need to hear all that. They really shouldn't let the next patient wait in the same room.
"Anyway, the purpose of my visit with you today is to seek you expert advice. I just want to know what you think." I brought my story to a wrap.
"What did those two fertility doctors say?" he asked with a smile. He looked mischievous.
"They didn't sound very optimistic because of how much my left ovary has gone through. I understand where they're coming from though."
Dr. Legendary propped himself up. However, since his belly is so big, it looked as if he just extended his belly and pushed himself away from the desk.
"I'm going to order some blood tests. While we're at it, we might as well check your CA-125." He scribbled a series of acronyms on my medical record. "Come back on Thursday, and we'll take a look at your blood test results."
"Thursday of next week?" I took out my cell phone and noticed that I have 3 appointments next week, but I'm free next Thursday.
"No. In two days. Come back in two days."
Blood test results in two days? That's unheard of.
"In two days?" I felt stupid repeating but I did in disbelief.
"We'll rush it." Dr. Legendary said it with such authority and confidence I thought I heard angels sing and saw white beams of light shining down from above.
Then I asked a bunch of other questions and answered a bunch of his questions. As I was leaving, Dr. Legendary said, "Don't worry. We'll talk more after the blood test results. You're extremely fortunate, and you beat cancer. Don't get discouraged. Keep the spirit up."The handsome female intern nodded repeatedly. Then the printer started, and the buzz returned to the room.
I got teary-eyed when I walked out of his office. It was nice to know he had faith in my damaged left ovary. On the other hand, I'm still skeptical especially after my bad experience with Dr. xxx. I'm also aware of the fact that, to Dr. Legendary, I probably mean nothing more than a perfect candidate for his next publication or research journal.
We'll see what happens on Thursday.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
One Month Since North America
This is what happened in the month I've been back in Taipei:
This is what happened in the month I've been back in Taipei:
- Worked 23 days
- Marked 60 writing assignments
- Substituted 3 times
- Experienced 1 typhoon (and got a day off from work because of it)
- Latest CA-125: 54 U/ml (blood taken on Aug 6)
- Saw 2 fertility doctors
- Paid NT$3645 (CDN$120) on tests for ovarian function
- Spent 2 Saturday nights at parties
- Saw 2 movies at the theater (The Dark Knight & Wall E.)
- Uploaded 3 batches of pictures (Vancouver, Seattle, & Oregon) on flickr
- Wished I was back in North America: countless times
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Dr. Motormouth
As the title suggests, the second fertility doctor talks very fast. She, too, switched to English as soon as Bill walked into the office. All the nurses watched in amazement as the doctor discussed my medical treatment and the fertility treatment with us.
Different from Dr. Magichands, Dr. Motormouth wanted more information from us: family medical history, BMI, details about my menstrual cycle, and all the details regarding my cancer treatment. I was trying to get a sense of what she was like by observing her body language, and she came across as a very straightforward and thorough physician. Her feminine side slipped out when she was typing in my family medical record though. After I told her that my maternal grandfather had high blood pressure diabetes, she typed, "mom's daddy" into the computer. I thought it was cute.
Dr. Motormouth wanted more from us. She wanted me to do a blood test for FSH, LH, E2, and PRL, all of which are tests for ovarian function. The blood test is also for insulin levels. Bill has to have semen analysis & morphology done. All this has to be done during the first 3 days of my next menstrual cycle. That means we have to wait another week and a half until we can go for the blood test. After that, we have to wait for another week for the results. Meanwhile, she asked us to record body temperature first thing in the morning. We walked out of her office with a pile of paper (for all the different tests), a transparent plastic cup with a lid (for little Billys), and a bill of NT$2,445 (about $80 Canadian).
The quest continues. I just made an appointment with a "legendary" doctor at National Taiwan University Hospital. His legend is that, through IVF, his wife got pregnant at the age of 47. I'll tell you more about him later. It's quite a story.
As the title suggests, the second fertility doctor talks very fast. She, too, switched to English as soon as Bill walked into the office. All the nurses watched in amazement as the doctor discussed my medical treatment and the fertility treatment with us.
Different from Dr. Magichands, Dr. Motormouth wanted more information from us: family medical history, BMI, details about my menstrual cycle, and all the details regarding my cancer treatment. I was trying to get a sense of what she was like by observing her body language, and she came across as a very straightforward and thorough physician. Her feminine side slipped out when she was typing in my family medical record though. After I told her that my maternal grandfather had high blood pressure diabetes, she typed, "mom's daddy" into the computer. I thought it was cute.
Dr. Motormouth wanted more from us. She wanted me to do a blood test for FSH, LH, E2, and PRL, all of which are tests for ovarian function. The blood test is also for insulin levels. Bill has to have semen analysis & morphology done. All this has to be done during the first 3 days of my next menstrual cycle. That means we have to wait another week and a half until we can go for the blood test. After that, we have to wait for another week for the results. Meanwhile, she asked us to record body temperature first thing in the morning. We walked out of her office with a pile of paper (for all the different tests), a transparent plastic cup with a lid (for little Billys), and a bill of NT$2,445 (about $80 Canadian).
The quest continues. I just made an appointment with a "legendary" doctor at National Taiwan University Hospital. His legend is that, through IVF, his wife got pregnant at the age of 47. I'll tell you more about him later. It's quite a story.
Monday, August 11, 2008
My MOS Lady
I go to the MOS Burger stand adjacent to the school to buy a large iced coffee every morning.
A little side note:
MOS Burger is a Japanese franchise that specializes in rice burgers. MOS stands for Mountain, Ocean, Sea. A large iced coffee from MOS Burger is the same size of a Vinti at Starbucks, but it only costs less than one Canadian dollar.
I saw that I had just missed that extra long traffic light when the nice man at the purple rice ball stand handed me my change. I had two choices: I could stand on the sidewalk and breathe in car exhaust under the blazing sun for exactly 2 minutes and 30 seconds, or I could go into 7-11 where they blast the AC with no consideration for the thinning ozone layer. It wasn't difficult.
It took a couple of minutes at 7-11 to pay for a box of already-cut fruit and a bottle of water. Then it took precisely 12 seconds to walk to the intersection. While standing in the blotchy shadow of a free, I thought it was best to take out the exact change for my daily iced coffee. Crossing the 6-lane street took exactly 45 seconds. I know because, in Taipei, the pedestrian traffic light tells you exactly how many seconds you have. In case you're not good with the relation between time and distance, there is even a little green man underneath the time indicator to show you what to do. You walk leisurely when he walks leisurely; you run when he starts to run.
So I got to the other side safe and sound. When I stood in front of the MOS Burger stand, surprisingly no one was paying attention to me. I couldn't see my usual MOS lady.
A second side note:
Since MOS Burger is a Japanese franchise, quality service is EVERYTHING. What I'm used to is everyone is that stand loudly and proudly shouting in unison: "Huan Ying Guang Lin!" (the Chinese equivalence of "irrashiaimasu." as you walk into a Japanese restaurant)
But today was different. No usual MOS lady and no one greeted me. Puzzled, I poked my head in a bit and let out an uncertain, "Hello?" BAM! My usual MOS lady jumped out from underneath the cash register (okay, she didn't, but it appeared as if she did). "Your large iced coffee," she said cheerfully while stuffing a paper bag in my face. "How did you..." my mouth couldn't quite catch up with the string of questions racing in my head. "I spotted you from afar. In fact, I saw you getting out your change wallet when you were on the other side of the street."
My usual MOS lady's got the eyesight of a hawk.
I go to the MOS Burger stand adjacent to the school to buy a large iced coffee every morning.
A little side note:
MOS Burger is a Japanese franchise that specializes in rice burgers. MOS stands for Mountain, Ocean, Sea. A large iced coffee from MOS Burger is the same size of a Vinti at Starbucks, but it only costs less than one Canadian dollar.
I saw that I had just missed that extra long traffic light when the nice man at the purple rice ball stand handed me my change. I had two choices: I could stand on the sidewalk and breathe in car exhaust under the blazing sun for exactly 2 minutes and 30 seconds, or I could go into 7-11 where they blast the AC with no consideration for the thinning ozone layer. It wasn't difficult.
It took a couple of minutes at 7-11 to pay for a box of already-cut fruit and a bottle of water. Then it took precisely 12 seconds to walk to the intersection. While standing in the blotchy shadow of a free, I thought it was best to take out the exact change for my daily iced coffee. Crossing the 6-lane street took exactly 45 seconds. I know because, in Taipei, the pedestrian traffic light tells you exactly how many seconds you have. In case you're not good with the relation between time and distance, there is even a little green man underneath the time indicator to show you what to do. You walk leisurely when he walks leisurely; you run when he starts to run.
So I got to the other side safe and sound. When I stood in front of the MOS Burger stand, surprisingly no one was paying attention to me. I couldn't see my usual MOS lady.
A second side note:
Since MOS Burger is a Japanese franchise, quality service is EVERYTHING. What I'm used to is everyone is that stand loudly and proudly shouting in unison: "Huan Ying Guang Lin!" (the Chinese equivalence of "irrashiaimasu." as you walk into a Japanese restaurant)
But today was different. No usual MOS lady and no one greeted me. Puzzled, I poked my head in a bit and let out an uncertain, "Hello?" BAM! My usual MOS lady jumped out from underneath the cash register (okay, she didn't, but it appeared as if she did). "Your large iced coffee," she said cheerfully while stuffing a paper bag in my face. "How did you..." my mouth couldn't quite catch up with the string of questions racing in my head. "I spotted you from afar. In fact, I saw you getting out your change wallet when you were on the other side of the street."
My usual MOS lady's got the eyesight of a hawk.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
The Roller Coaster... Again
I fell asleep on the couch after we got home from Dr. Magichands office. When I woke up around 4pm, all hell broke loose.
I was so angry.
I never did anything to harm others, yet I feel like bad things keep happening to me. Okay, even with unfortunate things knocking down my door, I've always tried to keep a positive outlook on life. I've also overcome all the obstacles along the way with determination and hard work. I always believed "whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stranger". If we go with the analogy in Chinese culture, that "difficulties are the tests of life", I've passed a good number of tests so far and my reward is another obstacle waiting straight ahead.
That was the past, and now I can look back at it with my middle finger pointing upward and go, "HA!"
Since the diagnosis of ovarian cancer, I feel like someone is on a mission to destroy me. Whatever "problems" I encountered before, I was always able to "fix" them. Though there were a few bumps on the road, I was able to get what I wanted at the end. But the possibility of not being able to have my own children really hits the core, and the thought of it is simply unbearable. I've always wanted to go through the whole pregnancy thing and become a mother. I started having a recurring dream in which I was waiting for my kids to come home from school with cookies baking in the oven in a little white kitchen at 13, when I became fertile. It's a part of my identity, the purpose of my existence. Then I got cancer in the ovary, the source of fertility. Not only did I lose one ovary, my only good one may not be fully functional. As Dr. Magichands said yesterday, "The AMH result will tell us if it's even worthwhile to go through IVF." He was preparing me for the worst: my only hope may not be worth the effort. And I can't fix it. There's nothing I can do that will change the outcome.
I so desparately want to come out of the other end of this dark road laughing with my middle finger pointing straight up.
p.s. In case you're wondering why I haven't sought support or help, I have.
The Chinese ones are only successful cases. After all, can you imagine a woman advertising her infertility on the Internet in a Chinese society? The only responses she'll get are messages to her husband to dump her and get a younger one.
The English ones are a bit too girly for my liking. Just go to any infertility support forum and see for yourself. Those women speak in codes and the little flashy animated emocons made me wanna throw up. Also, I couldn't find anyone I could relate to. They're either younger than me, or they're my age already with 2 kids but wanting more.
I fell asleep on the couch after we got home from Dr. Magichands office. When I woke up around 4pm, all hell broke loose.
I was so angry.
I never did anything to harm others, yet I feel like bad things keep happening to me. Okay, even with unfortunate things knocking down my door, I've always tried to keep a positive outlook on life. I've also overcome all the obstacles along the way with determination and hard work. I always believed "whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stranger". If we go with the analogy in Chinese culture, that "difficulties are the tests of life", I've passed a good number of tests so far and my reward is another obstacle waiting straight ahead.
That was the past, and now I can look back at it with my middle finger pointing upward and go, "HA!"
Since the diagnosis of ovarian cancer, I feel like someone is on a mission to destroy me. Whatever "problems" I encountered before, I was always able to "fix" them. Though there were a few bumps on the road, I was able to get what I wanted at the end. But the possibility of not being able to have my own children really hits the core, and the thought of it is simply unbearable. I've always wanted to go through the whole pregnancy thing and become a mother. I started having a recurring dream in which I was waiting for my kids to come home from school with cookies baking in the oven in a little white kitchen at 13, when I became fertile. It's a part of my identity, the purpose of my existence. Then I got cancer in the ovary, the source of fertility. Not only did I lose one ovary, my only good one may not be fully functional. As Dr. Magichands said yesterday, "The AMH result will tell us if it's even worthwhile to go through IVF." He was preparing me for the worst: my only hope may not be worth the effort. And I can't fix it. There's nothing I can do that will change the outcome.
I so desparately want to come out of the other end of this dark road laughing with my middle finger pointing straight up.
p.s. In case you're wondering why I haven't sought support or help, I have.
The Chinese ones are only successful cases. After all, can you imagine a woman advertising her infertility on the Internet in a Chinese society? The only responses she'll get are messages to her husband to dump her and get a younger one.
The English ones are a bit too girly for my liking. Just go to any infertility support forum and see for yourself. Those women speak in codes and the little flashy animated emocons made me wanna throw up. Also, I couldn't find anyone I could relate to. They're either younger than me, or they're my age already with 2 kids but wanting more.
Dr. Magichands
Dr. Liu, my surgeon, recommended this fertility doctor, also a Dr. Liu, to us. After checking out this second Dr. Liu on the Internet and was pleased with what I read in the testimonials, I made an appointment for 10 o'clock this morning.
The doctor's office is on the 10th floor of a business building. The first thing I noticed was that there was no big signs downstairs, which suggested that he gets patients mainly through referrals. "It could be a good thing. That means he probably doesn't accept many appointments a day." When we walked into the office, however, there were at least 15 woman and their spouses in the waiting area. The receptionist gave us a form to fill out, so we went to the back where there was a table to write on. In that room, there were another 5 couples waiting. The sheer number of patients in the waiting area made both of us uneasy. Bill said he felt like he was in a factory. I started imagining eggs and sperms being mixed up or contaminated.
The form asks about the woman's medical history, allergies, cigarette/alcohol/drug use, family medical history, and everything there is to know about her menstrual cycle. On the flip side, it asks questions about the man's health condition and the purpose of this visit.
I could feel that my confidence level in the ability to get pregnant declining as I filled out my medical history. I wondered if the doctor would tell us that I'm a hopeless case. I tried to push negative thoughts out of my head and remind myself that we were there to find out about the procedure and check out this fertility doctor. If we don't like him, we have an appointment with another doctor on Monday. We won't do it unless we feel 100 % comfortable and confident in the doctor.
This doctor is obviously very successful. In the 1.5 hours we were waiting, there was a steady stream of patients coming in and out. The women coming in all looked nervous, and the ones leaving the office were all smiling with a blue bag of medication and some empty needles. On the wall, there was a custom-made wood carving with stylish Chinese brush writing, which roughly translates as: "Magic Hands that Bring Life". It was a gift from a patient and her husband. I could see the doctor in his office whenever a patient came out of it. He's bald, heavy-build, and he's got himself a very comfortable-looking, high-back chair. A sign of power. The impression of a money-sucking doctor who wouldn't give his patients the time of his day started to form.
As soon as we walked in to his big bright office, the doctor stood up and reached out his one of his magic hands to greet us. He is personable and very easy to talk to. The beginning of the visit was all in Chinese. He told us that he knows my surgeon and that he could assure us that had many years of experience. He also told me not to worry too much because he had dealt with women with my kind of medical history and succeeded. Then he effortlessly switched to English and started explaining the science behind the procedure. He asked about the details of the surgeries and jotted down relevant numbers and dates. His realistic and honest opinion, in a nutshell, is that it's gonna be tough considering how much my leftover left ovary has been through, but we won't know until we check out my ovarian function through a blood test for AMH.
We also did an ultrasound, and the doc examined my breasts and thyroid. When he squeezed my nipple, a droplet of milk emerged from the center. I was fascinated beyond belief and started wondering if the same thing would happen if I squeezed it. Dr. Magichands quickly ripped off his latex gloves and calmly said, "Ummm.. just as I suspected. It's a sign of irregular hormone function." If my life were a Japanese manga (comics), that was the square in which a huge piece of rock fell from the sky and squashed me underneath it.
Our next appointment with Dr. Magichands is at 2pm on August 30th to see the result of AMH.
Dr. Liu, my surgeon, recommended this fertility doctor, also a Dr. Liu, to us. After checking out this second Dr. Liu on the Internet and was pleased with what I read in the testimonials, I made an appointment for 10 o'clock this morning.
The doctor's office is on the 10th floor of a business building. The first thing I noticed was that there was no big signs downstairs, which suggested that he gets patients mainly through referrals. "It could be a good thing. That means he probably doesn't accept many appointments a day." When we walked into the office, however, there were at least 15 woman and their spouses in the waiting area. The receptionist gave us a form to fill out, so we went to the back where there was a table to write on. In that room, there were another 5 couples waiting. The sheer number of patients in the waiting area made both of us uneasy. Bill said he felt like he was in a factory. I started imagining eggs and sperms being mixed up or contaminated.
The form asks about the woman's medical history, allergies, cigarette/alcohol/drug use, family medical history, and everything there is to know about her menstrual cycle. On the flip side, it asks questions about the man's health condition and the purpose of this visit.
I could feel that my confidence level in the ability to get pregnant declining as I filled out my medical history. I wondered if the doctor would tell us that I'm a hopeless case. I tried to push negative thoughts out of my head and remind myself that we were there to find out about the procedure and check out this fertility doctor. If we don't like him, we have an appointment with another doctor on Monday. We won't do it unless we feel 100 % comfortable and confident in the doctor.
This doctor is obviously very successful. In the 1.5 hours we were waiting, there was a steady stream of patients coming in and out. The women coming in all looked nervous, and the ones leaving the office were all smiling with a blue bag of medication and some empty needles. On the wall, there was a custom-made wood carving with stylish Chinese brush writing, which roughly translates as: "Magic Hands that Bring Life". It was a gift from a patient and her husband. I could see the doctor in his office whenever a patient came out of it. He's bald, heavy-build, and he's got himself a very comfortable-looking, high-back chair. A sign of power. The impression of a money-sucking doctor who wouldn't give his patients the time of his day started to form.
As soon as we walked in to his big bright office, the doctor stood up and reached out his one of his magic hands to greet us. He is personable and very easy to talk to. The beginning of the visit was all in Chinese. He told us that he knows my surgeon and that he could assure us that had many years of experience. He also told me not to worry too much because he had dealt with women with my kind of medical history and succeeded. Then he effortlessly switched to English and started explaining the science behind the procedure. He asked about the details of the surgeries and jotted down relevant numbers and dates. His realistic and honest opinion, in a nutshell, is that it's gonna be tough considering how much my leftover left ovary has been through, but we won't know until we check out my ovarian function through a blood test for AMH.
We also did an ultrasound, and the doc examined my breasts and thyroid. When he squeezed my nipple, a droplet of milk emerged from the center. I was fascinated beyond belief and started wondering if the same thing would happen if I squeezed it. Dr. Magichands quickly ripped off his latex gloves and calmly said, "Ummm.. just as I suspected. It's a sign of irregular hormone function." If my life were a Japanese manga (comics), that was the square in which a huge piece of rock fell from the sky and squashed me underneath it.
Our next appointment with Dr. Magichands is at 2pm on August 30th to see the result of AMH.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
But they said...
I had been so excited about going to and having seen the Dark Knight that my students have started to take a bit of interest in the movie. Coincidentally, the major theme for this week is movies and using more colorful adjectives to describe movie stars (after all, they're not all only beautiful, good, or funny).
As soon as I began the lesson this morning, however, one of my students looked at me and said, "Kate, have you heard about Morgan Freeman?"
*pause*
Okay, you need a bit more background information here. Before talking about movies and books, we spent about 3 days on the theme "The News". I put the links to English news programs on our class site and encouraged them to spend 5 or 10 minutes to check out the news in "real" English. In class, the students listened to news reports and tried to get the gist of the stories. They learned expressions like "The investigation is due to start tomorrow" and "Two workers were fatally injured."
*resume*
So back to the classroom when a student asked me if I heard about Morgan Freeman. As soon as he mentioned the name, more students jumped in trying to tell me what they heard on the news. After a brief moment of indistinguishable noise of students talking on top of one another, one voice came through, "and he was fatally injured." While fighting back the urge to give him a hug for using what he had just learned a few days ago, we got on the Internet to check out what exactly went on. After reading a few links and got the impression that Mr. Freeman is doing fine, the student seemed almost disappointed.
"Okay. I'm sure there will be more report on Mr. Freeman's condition tonight. Now let's get back to our discussion from yesterday..."
"But Kate," the student interrupted, "they said he was fatally injured when I saw it on the news yesterday."
"I'm sure you heard it right," I praised him.
Can you imagine how excited he was the night before when he understood "fatally injured" on an English news program?
I had been so excited about going to and having seen the Dark Knight that my students have started to take a bit of interest in the movie. Coincidentally, the major theme for this week is movies and using more colorful adjectives to describe movie stars (after all, they're not all only beautiful, good, or funny).
As soon as I began the lesson this morning, however, one of my students looked at me and said, "Kate, have you heard about Morgan Freeman?"
*pause*
Okay, you need a bit more background information here. Before talking about movies and books, we spent about 3 days on the theme "The News". I put the links to English news programs on our class site and encouraged them to spend 5 or 10 minutes to check out the news in "real" English. In class, the students listened to news reports and tried to get the gist of the stories. They learned expressions like "The investigation is due to start tomorrow" and "Two workers were fatally injured."
*resume*
So back to the classroom when a student asked me if I heard about Morgan Freeman. As soon as he mentioned the name, more students jumped in trying to tell me what they heard on the news. After a brief moment of indistinguishable noise of students talking on top of one another, one voice came through, "and he was fatally injured." While fighting back the urge to give him a hug for using what he had just learned a few days ago, we got on the Internet to check out what exactly went on. After reading a few links and got the impression that Mr. Freeman is doing fine, the student seemed almost disappointed.
"Okay. I'm sure there will be more report on Mr. Freeman's condition tonight. Now let's get back to our discussion from yesterday..."
"But Kate," the student interrupted, "they said he was fatally injured when I saw it on the news yesterday."
"I'm sure you heard it right," I praised him.
Can you imagine how excited he was the night before when he understood "fatally injured" on an English news program?
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