Then we came back home later that night. My parents had to go to their jobs the next day on Monday. Luckily- my brother and I had that day off from school. We were going to have to be absent from it on Tuesday and Wednesday since we were going back out of town for my grandmother’s funeral. We left again that Monday night not too long after my dad came home from work. Since it does take about 3 hours to get to where my grandpa and my two uncles live- we arrived close to midnight and just checked into a motel. Then we went over to the house on Tuesday morning- and my poor grandfather was sitting outside in his front yard alone looking really depressed.
We were having a hard time having a baby and decided to try in vitro. After we went to the fertility guy he sent me to an ObGyn so he could examine me and get me started on medications, so I’d produce a lot of eggs to harvest. In my younger college years I always believed in abortion but thankfully never had a need for one. After the exam the doctor handed me a form to sign for “selective termination” if I got pregnant with more than two fetuses. I read it and felt utter revulsion for this man, and said I couldn’t sign it and they’d just have to only transplant two embryos each time.
He muttered, “You’ll feel differently after you go through this a few times.” I told him that it was simply ethically wrong for me to implant 6–10 embryos then just tell him to “terminate all but 1–2. I just couldn’t do it. Later in the first cycle I had severe ovarian pain. There’s a syndrome where they overstimulate the ovaries and they can get as big as a huge softball and that’s what I had. Basically it was a medical emergency. I was working full time and had my own practice, so I couldn’t just leave. I called him and told him about the intense abdominal pain and that I couldn’t physically stand up straight because my abdomen muscles were splinting so hard, and I’d been taking a half of a percocet every 4 hours to get through seeing pts.
He said, “If you think that hurts just wait til….” OMG I was so angry I would have hit him if it had been in person. He didn’t want to see another doctor telling him something was really wrong, who KNEW when something was seriously wrong! I made it through but told hubby I was never going back to that A hole (Mind you we had paid CASH up front in the days when insurance didn’t pay anything for such treatments, and it was a LOT) I hope he starved himself out of medicine. I told hubby to sue him if I died, and I NEVER thought I’d sue another doctor.
My father was a pretty stubborn old guy. He had live alone for more than 30 years and was always fiercely independent. More than once he brushed away his kids offers of assistance. After treatment for prostate cancer in his late 70’s he began to fail physically. My sister who lived 3 hours from him was trying to keep up on him but as she worked full time , and had a family, she was very stretched to see him more than once a week, sometimes longer.
My younger uncle was still living at home with my grandparents at the time. He was “an accident” and was brought into the world when my dad was 21 as my other uncle was 19. His older brothers are both old enough to be his father. He is only 11.5 years older than me- so we were more like an older brother and a younger brother rather than an uncle and a nephew. Back then he was 25 and still going to college. It took him 7 years to get through it because he transferred to a different university after his first two years and kept changing his major. He finally graduated that year in June- but his mother could NOT be there to see it because she died 3 months earlier.