MRI and CT day

I woke up with a weird pain in the back of my shoulder this morning.. or did I?

Such is life these days when I start to wonder whether every single discomfort is an indication that the cancer has spread, and that is probably the most difficult part of this whole situation, not knowing, waiting.

Yesterday I increased my dosage of Provera to 200mg after 7 days at 100mg, and I felt the difference almost immediately. I felt a bit moodier, or more so, I could tell I was by the way I was reacting to tiny things, like bad drivers who almost ran us over a zebra crossing, or my husbands driving. As much as I try to be positive and even-minded it seems moodiness is something a woman just can't help when it comes to hormones. The lips are still dry and I'm still not drinking enough water. I've always disliked water... it just has no taste!

Getting an MRI and CT booking at the radiologist was a bit of a drama last week. At first I was told that I had to send in a copy of my referral sheet so that they could see the clinical notes, and determine what machine they needed to use for an MRI. I did this, and then booked in my MRI at 9:30am on the 20th of November. Unfortunately the CT couldn't be booked for the same day so I was to go back on the 21st of November at 10:00am.

Then I got a call back asking if I could change the date to the 19th for the MRI, as the senior radiologist wanted to be a part of the procedure, she had been noted on my referral from the oncologist. Apparently her specialty is Gynaecological Oncology.

So I went in today, not knowing what to expect. When they called me after all the forms had been filled, I was informed that they wanted to do the CT today or tomorrow as there was a meeting being held that they needed the results for, between the senior radiologist and my oncologist. So I was advised that the only appointment available was 3:30 this afternoon. I decided that was OK, I'd just stick around. Not ideal but not like I had anything in particular to do. I thought it was a bit weird they could fit me in all of a sudden when the person I'd spoken to before was adamant a CT could only be done on the 21st.

I went into the MRI room, put on a gown, and was lead to the machine where I had to lie down.

The whole procedure took about 45 minutes and it was hard work trying to lie flat on my back, keep still and breathe shallow. Sometimes I had to hold my breath for what seemed like half a minute, and the second half of the MRI was with some substances injected into a canula in my arm. Because of the Canula I had t place my arm above my head which made the shallow breathing even more difficult.

After the MRI, it was off to the CT. Somehow the technician managed to slot me in after my MRI so I didn't have to come back, and that was awesome.

In comparison, the CT was easy, over somewhat quickly. They first had to flush out the dye from the MRI and inject their own dye into my arm to make everything light up. This dye made my mouth feel a bit dry, I could suddenly taste something like new plastic in my mouth, and I felt the sensation roll down the trunk of my body into my pelvis. As the technician said, I felt like I was peeing my pants, but I wasn't. I was warned about all these symptoms.

In about 10 minutes, the whole thing was over and I was ready to pay the bill. An MRI and CT is an expensive account to pay.

So far, the medical bills have been large but luckily part of that will be covered by my private health insurance. Just when I thought I'd been paying way too much... it all comes in handy at some point

I'm curious as to what stage the cancer will be diagnosed at and whether my treatment plan will change. We'll find out on Monday

Provera, my best friend

Oncologists have a difficult job. Diagnosing terrible diseases, having to share bad news sometimes, having to deal with patients who are probably not so happy chappy, sometimes having to deal with 'the end'.

I know an oncologist as a personal friend in another country and I remember him saying that the work affected him emotionally, and therefore, he had resorted to the lab work.

Yesterday I found a forgotten memory of how this cancer journey actually started.

In May this year we came back from our first trip to Europe, it was a whirl wind tour with a 18 hour flight to Turkey, 10 days later we were in France, 7 days later in Scotland, 3 days later in England, and then on to the US for 2 weeks.

When I returned home, I began to menstruate, and after a week, it didn't stop. It continued almost continously through to the end of June, so I attended my GP's office to ask for a check up in direct relation to the bleeding. I was sent to have an ultrasound and it came back with the diagnosis that I had PCOS, a fact I already knew. This was a new GP for me, following 4 years of being jerked around by my previous GP.

She put the bleeding down to PCOS' affect on hormones, a hormone imbalance and asked me to come back when it stopped so that my lining could be checked. She also wrote me a referral to a fertility specialist at my husband and my request. We'd been to an IVF seminar the year before

The bleeding continued and at times it would get lighter, and then start being like a normal menstruation again. During May and June the bleeding was heavy, with large clots forming but it seemed to have eased.

One night in September I was watching a home renovation show, Grand Designs. It was about a couple who were in the middle of a 2 year home build project building this extraordinary dream home around an historic tower that was part of their childhood, of which the land was bought. Part way through the project and show the wife learned that cancer had returned to her, and she passed away before the project ended, the husband continued his legacy to build and finish the house. It was an emotional episode but I didn't think anything further of it.

The next morning, I woke up early, so I lay in bed. It was my day off work and everything was quiet. And then suddenly out of nowhere, I had a clear thought in my mind, cancer.

I remember that my heart started beating a bit, I started to feel anxious. I reached over to my iPhone and looked up cancer/menstruation and I found an article on Cervical cancer. Then I found another and another.

It was too early to call the doctor, but my anxiety dictated that I should go and see her, to have an overdue pap smear and remind her of my bleeding. The funny thing is, the bleeding had lightened, almost stopped the day before, so it made me even more comfortable that today should be the day I have a pap smear.

My doctor sent me off for another ultrasound after the pap smear. I was able to schedule the ultrasound the following afternoon. So I drank my litre of water and headed off to the imaging centre, for some reason that day I just kept driving over speed bumps and it was difficult to find parking. As any girl who has had an ultrasound will know, holding a litre of water is no easy task.

Sitting in the radiology room, the radiologist asked me some questions, a hard woman with a cold edge. She asked me the reason for my ultrasound, and i told her I'd been trying to conceive for 4 years, she asked me if I'd seen a fertility specialist and when I said no, that I'd been trying but my previous doctor had been difficult, she was concerned, and almost angry. She told me that after 12 months of trying, I should have gotten a referral.

She did a couple of other scans, an internal as well, and said I needed to make sure I came back after my next period so they could analyse the uterine lining.

I said OK, and I left.

The GP follow up was fairly simple. My pap smear came back normal and the ultrasound showed I had a thickened lining of about 13mm. At the height of the cycle, just before menstruation, the lining is as thick as 11-12mm so mine was considered on the thicker side.

She asked me to come back after my period stopped so an ultrasound could be done to see how thick my lining was after the blood had shed, and also reminded me that she had written a referral to the fertility specialist and that I should follow that up.

I went back home and contacted IVF Australia, and that's how we ended up where we are now.


My first oncologist appointment was this past Monday. I'd had the whole weekend to think about my fears so when the appointment came along, I felt ready.

The oncologist, Dr GG, had already spoken to my fertility specialist extensively and was already aware of my situation. He explained the cancer to me and went through my medical history. He explained that I was very unlucky as I was still young, not menopausal, I didn't have cancer in the family history and I'd been on the pill for more than 15 years to regular my PCOS. The Pill had protected me from the cancer for those years.

The treatment for me is based around our wish to have a child, although I understand the most popular treatment is to have a total hysterectomy.

The treatment plan covers 6 months with close observation as I will be taking hormone therapy, large doses of progestogen (Provera) to reduce the cancer. The dosage I've started on is 100mg for this week, increased to 200mg per day next week and then 300mg each day after that. The normal dosage of Provera that people take for general menstrual issues is 5-10mg. But since this is a cancer treatment, a high dosage is required.

After the 3rd month I will have another D&C to biopsy the uterine lining, and then afterward and IUD will take over half the dosage of Provera, and I'll continue on less pills for the remaining 3 months.

If the treatment works to contain the cancer, then we will go straight to IVF, and after we've tried to have children, the end game will be to remove the uterus to ensure the cancer doesn't come back.

Provera is said to have many side effects, bloating from fluid retention, weight gain, nausea amongst others. Apparently it triggers moodiness.

This week on the 100mg per day, I haven't had many side effects. The first morning after the first dosage I had a very painful toe on my left side when I woke up. It had developed as I slept and it became difficult to walk. But in the afternoon I took a walk around the block with my dog and that actually seemed to help.

I've found that I only eat half of what I used to, and I am still experiencing lower back pain with some pain or discomfort in the lower abdomen. Other than that, I feel normal.

Next week I am scheduled to have an MRI and CT to stage the cancer then my next oncologist appointment will be Monday the 25th of November.

We've decided to fly to the US for thanksgiving to see family as we are now going to be in Australia for at least 8 months. Our flight out is on the 26th of November, so if the MRI and CT come back adversely I may need to come back early although the oncologist did not anticipate any dire diagnosis.

We had been planning to move to the US with my husbands transfer through his company but with this diagnosis... it is delayed.

So far, the doctors I have encountered, and the nurses, have all been so kind and straightforward, it really makes the GP level of medicine look mediocre.

I've tried to find information on Provera and it's success online but scant information has been recorded. So I am hoping that this blog will be a record of my journey so that other women will be informed of what to expect.

The main thing is, think positive! Don't be a victim to the diagnosis, make the most of it and remember to be grateful for those that surround you.

Counting sheep

My addiction to television started at an early age. I'm ashamed to admit it.

Every morning at 8:00am, rain hail or shine, I'd be sitting in front of our beat up old television box watching Sesame Street, learning my ABC's and not being able to decide whether I liked Big Bird or Mr Snuffleupagus better. The jury is still out.

My parents would constantly yell at me for sitting too close to the television but back in those days a remote control was a luxury and sitting nearer the TV was much more convenient so I could turn the dial or press the buttons on the box to change the channel, turn up the volume, do all those important things.

Along the way I learned many of the most important things in life, the alphabet, how to count (with the Count!), the word of the day 'co-operation' and counting sheep. Yes.. one of my clearest memories of Bert and Ernie, when Ernie would count sheep.

Last night we both couldn't sleep and I was counting sheep. I was trying my best to just relax but my head kept thinking about how my back ached, worrying about whether that was a sign that this thing had spread.. finally at some point in the morning, I fell asleep.

When I woke up it was too early to call the Gynaecological Oncologist but I tried the number anyway. It was just my luck that his secretary answered. I felt so nervous and was unsure of what I would say. I found that the first available appointment would be November 18th, and then 5th of December after that. I've always heard of specialists not being available and waiting for weeks ... I took the 18th of November and left my number in case there were any cancellations. I've always believed in fate, so if the 18th of November was the day, then that would be the day.

Twenty minutes later however, I got a phone call back from the specialists secretary to say there had funnily been a cancellation on Monday of next week. God works in mysterious ways... I had been sitting there wondering if the 18th was too far away.. wondering how I'd cope mentally with so much time... so I felt so relieved... it was my lucky day.

I feel like things are working in my favour here. I still don't know how far the cancer has gone but it doesn't matter. People have had bad odds and have recovered before, why not me?

I never thought I'd be a cancer patient but here I am, ready to tackle it head on.

Better to know than not

Its day 6, post operation (last Friday - today is Wednesday), and I've been feeling ok.

I tried to keep mildly active over the weekend by going for short walks but I think I over did it on Sunday when I went out for lunch to celebrate a 40th. Sitting on my ovaries turned out to be painful and walking too much made me feel a pain in the lower back and right side pelvis on Monday and Tuesday. The only other thing I noticed was that I was possibly urinating frequently and a slightly sore neck.

Today we had some news. I received a phone call from the fertility specialist (Dr MK) asking us to come in this afternoon. We had a scheduled follow up for next Wednesday so I figured the news would not be good. Before the appointment I consulted Dr Google and tried to look up what complications or adverse results could possibly be so I had a general idea. Most of the articles I read suggested that a Polyp would most probably be non-cancerous.

I was nervous but ready. Dr MK reiterated that she had found a polyp inside my uterus during the operation on Friday and it had been sent off for testing, and that was the reason she had asked us to both be present. It turns out the polyp is cancerous and so I will need to see a gynaecological oncologist within the next 10 days for tests to determine how bad it is.

For me the news was a bit upsetting but at the same time I know it didn't affect me as much as it did my husband.

To be told at 35 that you have cancer must normally be a life changing event, I'm sure there are tears and depression, self pity, self loathing even. And I could tell that it wasn't something that was easy for the doctor to tell me.

But to me, I feel as if it's better to know what it is, and what can be done rather than waste energy thinking about why it has happened. I did momentarily get annoyed that it took us so long to get to this point and there was a bit of blame on our previous GP (Dr ML) from my stand point because I felt he had really jerked us around.

The point is, that doesn't help anything. And there are so many people being diagnosed with cancer every day. I'd rather just grab it by the horns and deal with it as much as I can. I'm sure Dr MK thinks the shock hasn't hit me yet and maybe it hasn't. The plan is for me to get on top of this cancer first, and then try to conceive quickly, possibly with IVF if option is there. I get the feeling at some point after that, my uterus will be gone.

My first reaction leaving the clinic was, when do I tell my family?

Part of me wanted to tell them what was going on, but then I decided the best thing to do was to wait until we have all the information. I did however decide to tell my dear friend from childhood, because I felt that I needed to tell someone and I knew she would be the right person to tell. Somewhat selfishly, because I know she and I are similar and she wouldn't fuss unnecessarily.

So.. the waiting begins... until the Oncologist's office opens tomorrow so that I can schedule an appointment.

I'm 35, and I've been diagnosed with having cancer.

But I'll get through it. :) I have a good feeling about this.

“Sometimes when you pick up your child you can feel the map of your own bones beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of his neck. This is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood - finding a piece of yourself separate and apart that all the same you could not live without.”

― Jodi Picoult, Perfect Match 

Over a decade ago I was diagnosed with PCOS. Back then, the doctor wasn't quite sure what to do except to send you home with a little booklet with scarce information - which I read.

Most of the information wasn't very useful, just details of things that PCOS'ers like me would already know. The important information for me though was it was known to affect fertility, and back then, at that young age, it made me feel anxious about circumstances that seemed so far off into the future.

In 2009 I got married to the love of my life, we'd talked about my issues with PCOS but I knew the seriousness of the problem was not really considered problematic by my significant other. I'd just been given a promotion in my job in banking and finance and we decided to put off trying to conceive because for some reason I felt that my job was much more important than starting a family. I was 31 and I'd convinced myself that in this day and age, age didn't really matter. I'd been reading all over the place of people becoming 1st time mothers at 40, and certainly around me, not very many of my friends were having kids yet.

When we did finally start trying to conceive, I considered myself pretty lucky. Other than a couple of comments from some friends, our parents did not push us about having grand kids. My mother in law once mentioned on the sly that her group of friends had discussed how tight underwear affected men's fertility. This was right out of the blue and I knew it was a subtle hint for me to talk about it with my husband. I found it rather funny at the time but I have to admit, I was still anxious. At that time we'd been trying for 2 years.

Part of our problem, other than the PCOS was our doctor at the time. Let's call him Dr ML. I hadn't been happy with this doctor from the start. He was young and so blase but he was conveniently located to us and my husband had no issues with him. But every time I approached him with my fertility issues, he would send me off to do an ultrasound, I'd come back and he'd tell me what I already knew, that I had PCOS. There'd be no follow up, and when I raised it again, he'd then send me off for a blood test and the obligatory 'weight loss will also greatly improve your chances'.

I'd go back again after being disheartened by his lack of doctorly service, and again, it would be ultrasound, maybe a variation like an AMH test but always just a blase response. In fact, when I received my AMH test result, he looked at it and said, 'I honestly don't know how to read these results, let me look it up on google'. In front of me he'd google how to interpret the results and he continued to say, 'well, i guess it's on the high side, typical for PCOS'. In frustration I remember I just wanted to shake the guy. What did that mean for me? Again, he'd send me away and tell me to keep trying, consider a bit of weight loss.

When I turned 35, I was well and truly over it. I was starting to change my attitude with everything. I used to be the chick who would eat my food cold, I never took anything back or returned it if there was something wrong at a supermarket, I'd just deal with it. Cold fries from McDonald? I'd just eat them. But then at 35 I decided I wouldn't put up with any more crap. I started being that person who would write a complaint letter if I got into a dodgy taxi, or bought a dodgy product from the supermarket. And I finally decided to change doctors, even if my husband wasn't going to.

The turning point came last year, when I was 34. I finally convinced my husband to come to a coupe of free IVF seminars. In all honesty, the information wasn't all that thorough, the doctors can only fit in a brief outline of procedures offered, but at the IVF Australia seminar, we listened to a doctor by the name of Dr RL and I remember feeling confident that I would get somewhere, some answers, if we sought a fertility specialist. I read that Dr RL was a PCOS specialist, and so I went back to Dr ML and asked him for a referral.

Sitting in Dr ML's office, I brought up the subject of the referral. He told me sure, but my husband had to be with me so both our names could go on the referral letter. In the meantime, he sent me off for another blood test, and the result, again, yep, I have PCOS. I couldn't believe I was being told the same thing again and again. I finally got my husband to come with me, for the sole purpose of getting a referral. I found myself with  my husband in Dr ML's office about a month or two later, saying 'You told me last time we had to be here together for a referral, so here we are'. To which he replied, no, you don't both have to be here but its good that you are. But you should have a Semen analysis first and blood tests so you can take them with you.

So we left with no referral and I vowed never to go back to this wanker again.

I finally sought a doctor located in Rhodes, Dr KJT. She had such a lovely nature, and I saw her for some menstrual issues I was having. Firstly, I'd been without a period for 10 months, and so had an ultrasound with her, she confirmed PCOS. Yes, again, but I felt that at least she didn't send me around the world. I came back again after a holiday in Europe with the opposite  problem. I'd gotten back from a month holiday in May 2013, I saw Dr KJT in July and we decided to wait and see if my period would stop on it's own as it seemed to be slowing down. She wrote my husband and I a referral to Dr RL as well so I held onto it. I felt that while I had this period issue I probably shouldn't go to the specialist just yet. The bleeding continued up until September 2013 so I found myself at DR KJT's office again, funnily enough, on a day the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

I was sent off for an ultrasound and I did my pap smear. The bleeding started again after my ultrasound.

You'd have thought by now that ultrasounds would be easy-peasy for me, but having to drink a litre of water and drive yourself to the nearest imaging place is not easy, especially when there are roadworks going on and every bump is just sending you on the verge of blowing the waterfall, so to speak.

At the ultrasound imaging place, I was about to lose my bladder, sweating like crazy, and having to hop from one foot to the other trying to hold on to the contents. The receptionist suggested I go to the bathroom and let out a little pee, and I looked at her like crazy, let out a little??? Was she serious?

She was serious. And I did it. It was painful.

I went into the room to have my ultrasound and an internal exam, something I'd never had with any of the previous ultrasounds, so I was confident this would get me somewhere. During the ultrasound, the radiologist asked me if I'd been trying to conceive and how long. I said 4 years and she was really really concerned, almost angry, that my previous doctor had farted around for so long. She suggested that after 12 months of trying and no success, a good doctor should have referred me to a fertility specialist straight away. She was actually pretty angry on my behalf. And that was when I realised how useless Dr ML had been.

The ultrasound showed that my uterine lining was on the thick side, 13mm. I took this to Dr KJT and she suggested I either come back when the bleeding stopped, and go for another ultrasound to see the lining of the uterus, post bleeding, or even better, go and finally see the fertility specialist.

So... it was now  2-3 months since we'd received our referral, and I realised I'd held onto it because I was mentally not prepared to find answers at the time. But finally, I felt like we had to do something.

One night, I went onto the IVF Australia website and submitted a query. The next day, I was contacted my one of the ladies. She'd noticed I'd asked for Dr RL but asked whether, considering my home location whether it would be more convenient for a specialist closer to me to look after us. I said sure, and so our first appointment was made for the 9th of October with Dr MK, a PCOS specialist. It was almost a month later but I knew the wait would be a while. I was just so happy that we were finally seeing someone.

 On the day of our appointment, I was nervous and I'm fairly sure my husband was too. We sat in the waiting room filling out forms and didn't say a word to each other. I felt like this was going to be the beginning of a fruitful journey, whether it be that we were deemed unable to have kids or able to. At least we'd know we tried our best.

By this stage, I think it was fair to say that trying to conceive on our own had been a psychological nightmare. The pressure on both of us was becoming unbearable having to think about timing, and then just not being up to it because of the pressure. My parents were beginning to put pressure on us too and seeing friends having children was starting to affect us.

I honestly wondered whether my fate in life was never to become a parent and I honestly felt that it was unfair on my husband too. I felt that he would be a great father and that we could be wonderful loving parents. But at times I wondered whether God didn't see it fit for us to have children. It seemed so cruel.

I remembered a joke that I'd heard about a man who prayed to God during the floods, asking him for help. He was approached by a boat and a helicopter while clinging to a tree branch and later when he drowned, God asked him why he didn't take up the boat or helicopter offer he had sent him. I realised that to a certain extent, we had to help ourselves and accept that the opportunity to see a fertility specialist was a solution for us.

We finally were called in to the office of Dr MK. The initial consultation was very thorough, I felt it was straight to the point. The first question the doctor asked us was why we were here. I was a little taken aback, because I assumed everyone came to a fertility specialist for the same reason but in hindsight I was grateful she actually asked us to articulate why we were sitting there.

She asked us our medical history, whether we had children previously, or had known infertility in our extended family. I told her about my PCOS and gave her a copy of the last Ultrasound report. And then, clearly and concisely, she explained to me what she thought we needed to do.

Dr MK pulled out a picture of a female reproductive system, and explained the thickened uterus lining to me and why I had continued bleeding that was sloughing off randomly from my uterine walls. It suddenly made perfect sense. My hormones didn't support the full shedding of the lining (a true menstrual period) and so pure gravity was aiding the sloughing off of blood from random areas of the uterine wall. She suggested I have a hysteroscopy and laparoscopy, and also a uterine curretage.

Dr MK explained that a hysteroscopy and curretage could be completed under day surgery and if I wanted, I could do the laparoscopy (where they insert blue dye into your fallopian tubes to check there are no blockages) under general ultrasound procedure. The catch was that sometimes if the ultrasound was not clear you'd have to go into day surgery and have the dye inserted via a small cut in the abdomen anyway so I opted to do it all at once under day surgery, general anaesthetic.

We booked the surgery in for the 1st of November. I was nervous but I felt so liberated, to finally be getting somewhere, some answers, it made me feel as if the nerves were not important. I actually couldn't wait for the surgery.

After the consultation I had a blood test and was told that a nurse would call me the next day to give me the nod to take a presciption of Primolut, a medication that would help stop my bleeding at least until the surgery. I never received the phone call and in the end, I didn't end up taking it. A slight set back but I could understand the issue. I just hoped there wouldn't be any problems moving forward. The nurses I spoke to during this period were so nice an apologetic, I couldn't fault them for trying to help me.

My surgery was scheduled for 6:30am so we got up early in the morning, I wore my loose clothing, no make-up, no jewellery and no nail polish as the nurse had advised the day before by phone. I fasted from midnight (well... not that many people eat after midnight so it really wasn't 'fasting).

The first thing the nurse asked me to do was go to the bathroom. I automatically walked into the bathroom but I wasn't sure if it was an order to empty my bladder or just to wash my hands. Either way, I forced myself to empty my bladder and washed my hands.

I was then taken to a curtained room with an arm chair and bed, and asked to change into a gown with the opening ties at the back. I sat down in the armchair and they rugged me up in a dressing gown and blankets while the anaesthetist talked to me. I felt like a runway model with an assistant who was changing me into gown and blankets while receiving instructions from a coordinator.

I was walked to the operating room after talking to Dr MK who was again really nice and explained the procedure. I lay down on the table, the anaesthetist went through his process with me, stuck the needle in the back of my hand and cracked a couple of jokes. The nurses asked me about my job and the next thing I know, I was out.

I woke up groggy in the recovery room about an hour and a half later, there was a nurse there holding my hand. It was honestly the most pleasant and caring experience I had gone through. I finally got up, went to the recovery chair, spoke to the nurses about post operative procedures and changing my bandages and the next thing you know, I was leaving with my husband.

When I came home, I was still groggy but I couldn't sleep. I wasn't in pain because the anaesthetic was still working it's wonders but by the late afternoon I was feeling a bit achy around my right ovary and kidney area. They'd also explained I might feel some pain in my shoulder tip due to the gas that's inserted into the abdomen/uterus and I did feel achy in my shoulder/clavicle area but it was manageable. I just took nurofen as discussed and the only bad bit of recovery was that I was getting bored of lying down and watching TV.

This morning, I woke up, day 2, with the aches in my ovaries. It seemed lying down straight or standing up was the best, whereas sitting down with weight on my ovaries was causing some discomfort. But I popped a couple more nurofen and things have been fine. I even went out for a walk today with my dog but standing up too long also turned out to be a bit painful.

By the way, during the surgery, my doctor had found a polyp and removed it. It may have been the cause of the bleeding, but the sucker has been sent off for testing and we'll know at our next appointment on the 13th of November.

So this is my journey... the start. Our specialist explained that if everything is normal after the surgery (and the husband's semen analysis is normal) there are various options for us, which will be discussed.

I feel as if we are realistic about our chances of having children. If it doesn't work out then at least we will know and I think we are open to adoption as a last resort, but we'd really love to have children of our own DNA first.

I was finally relieved to meet a specialist who could clearly explain what was actually happening to me, she never told me the obvious, to lose weight, she didn't judge me. She plainly saw the ultrasound, listened to my symptoms and acted. She clearly explained the procedures and options that would be available to us moving forward, and so, I feel like we have been given a real chance to move forward. So far, everyone we have dealt with at IVF Australia have been fantastic. So I am optimistic about our care here.

I just wish we had done this earlier...!