Resistance
I'm still waiting on my fasting insulin level result from Wednesday morning. Nurse Space cadet told me to call in if I hadn't heard anything by 3:00, and at 3:05 I dutifully rang up the clinic and left a message requesting my results. I should note a point in the clinic's favor: the receptionist have always been very careful not to put me through to someone's voicemail if s/he is not working (specifically, on my care team) that day. So my message is waiting for Nurse NoName, who is covering for Nurse Spacey (my primary nurse), instead of languishing away in Nurse Spacey's inbox for an entire weekend.
And while I wait on that: a little vent. I made the mistake last night of telling my father about my fertility treatments thusfar. I thought that maybe this would garner some measure of understanding on his part, a realization that my life is not all sunshine and roses. I'd mentioned the IF to him in the past, and I even called him a few nights before our first RE appointment to review some items on my family medical history form. So this was really to tell him about the Clomid, and how it wasn't really working, and about all the nasty side effects I've been dealing with.
Mistake #1: "I don't think this cycle is going to work either, and then I'll have to move onto injectible medications." His response? Don't say that. The doctors make that decision, not you.
Mistake #2 (the biggie): "The Clomid is making me a little crazy. I've been experiencing some really bad side effects. Like yelling at Ezra every night for hours on end. One day I just sat in the middle of the living room floor and cried and I couldn't move." His response? Sometimes I get upset, too. But you have to be strong, and not cry. It's not good to do that. Which wouldn't be so bad, except he kept harping on the "upset" and completely missing the "scary drug side effect" aspect.
Then he proceeded to tell me about a co-worker who pursued fertility treatments for a few years, and eventually succeeded, and reminding me that I have to be patient, like, THANKS DAD I KNOW. I eventually managed to work in a comment about the visual disturbances, which I thought would work, but he brushed it off. Until I mentioned that these disturbances were related to blood clotting and a risk of stroke. That shut him up...for about thirty seconds.
Whatever. I could have (and did, actually) get over all of that. I wanted him to understand that my life is a little difficult right now. He didn't, and that's ok. Until...about twenty minutes ago, when he called me to say, "Something's been bothering me. I don't like to hear that you sit in the middle of the room crying for half an hour. That's not good." This sounds promising, huh? "You should learn to control yourself. Be strong, and get through it. It's not worth getting upset."
Did I mention that I'm sitting here at work listening to this? And I work in a fairly open cubefarm-like environment?
Yeah, I ended that conversation pretty quickly, with a curt, "We can discuss this on Sunday." Actually, no, I had to say that a few times before he got the message, though his response was more like, "No, I just wanted to get that off my chest, I don't want to talk about it anymore." And I think in the end I may have hung up on him. Oh well. I still have to get through another hour or so of work without breaking down; I don't have time for this BS.
Labels: Clomid Monster
posted by Robber Barren at 3:27 PM
comments (5)
Perhaps you're expecting a bit much empathy from a man. I'm too embarrased to talk to my father about what we're going to directly. All communication goes through my mother, who is very empathic, luckily.
A positive spin on his comments would be that he wishes all this wouldn't affect you as much as it does. Makes sense in a way, but is totally unrealistic.
Men and women deal with problems differently, whether for genetic reasons or socialization. Men try to solve problems, be strong, and put on a tough face; women like to first feel and understand their pain before addressing it.
Since I know neither you nor your father, I think that I can objectively say that you're being too hard on your father; he's simply misapplying male coping mechanisms to you. He means well (for what it's worth).
My dad gives me "uh o.k., well I hope it goes good" - no matter what I say. I am sorry your dad isn't more supportive. It is really hard to go through this and not be able to count on your family. I haven't even told my mom, I know the response will be awful. My SIL has the attitude your dad does, I avoid her. It would be nice to get a little compasion sometimes.
At work too. Arrrggghhhh, that jus makes it worse. I hope it goes better when you talk to him today.
Anon - I know you meant your comment to be helpful, just as I know that my father (usually) doesn't set out to upset me. However, your statement was the functional equivalent of telling me: "Objectively speaking, you shouldn't be upset that you're infertile, because there are so many unwanted children in the world. You can just adopt some of those!"
This is my blog, where I discuss my issues in dealing with my infertility. When I want advice or opinions, I ask for them. When I want to vent, I do that. I don't need you (or anyone else) to chide me for my emotions.
My father studiously doesn't want to know. I know he cares, but he just avoids any conversation about the infertility for all he's worth. I'm sorry your dad isn't getting it.
Speak up!
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