Posts Tagged ‘anesthesia reaction’

Besides being a day in which the windows are still being replaced. It’s rather like living in an Alice-in-Wonderland set, actually. Much busy-ness, no progress. Or so it seems. Realistically, I know they must be accomplishing something, but three weeks without being able to sleep in is taking a toll on me. Not to mention the fact that I’m probably the only person in the world who didn’t actually mind taking prednisone. I felt peppy all the time, without that nasty caffeine buzz. Woke in the morning ready to wake up, and didn’t feel like napping all afternoon. Ah well. It’s leaving my system now, for sure. I could have slept another three hours this morning, if there hadn’t been workmen tromping through the house. *sigh*

Ok, IVF related stuff:

My hand is not as discolored today, which is good news. Looks like my flesh will not slough off after all.

Which is a relief.

Bad news is that my much-abused butt is starting to make known its displeasure at all the PIO injections. Bruised and lumpy, as promised. Poor boyfriend winces more than I do, when he has to stab me. Even so, even sore and lumpy, it’s easier than I’d thought it would be. Uncomfortable on the same level as a paper-cut. Truly no big deal.

The ambiguous news is that I was crampy all last night, and into this morning. I’m trying very hard not to read too much into this, but the timing would be just about right for implantation cramps, yes? Down, Susan. Down! I took an HPT & the HCG seems to have left my system, so in another few days, I’ll start testing in earnest. June 10 seems like a very very long way away.

To make a long, rambling, post short, I’m waiting. Waiting waiting waiting. Waiting to see if anything took. Waiting waiting waiting…

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And 5dpER, and the hand that the anesthesiologist savaged in his attempt to punch through my mighty mighty veins is still – or rather, is more – swollen and discolored than it was the day of retrieval – and that was pretty bad at the time.

I was concerned enough yesterday to call my nurse, who called the anesthesiologist, who called me back to tell me that what I was describing (bright red/purple for about an inch on every side of the injection site, which remains flesh-colored) could not happen with the medicine I was given (Propofol). Well, that’s a relief, because from here, it looked, um, pretty purply-red, sort of like a pretty bad reaction of some sort – allergic or chemical – and I was getting worried about, you know, my flesh sloughing off or something. “Nah,” says he. “Maybe it’s a bruise.” “No,” I said. “I have a pretty nasty bruise on my other hand from where we attempted an iv. And inside both elbows, too. Bruises, I know from bruises.”

He was completely humorless and obviously did not understand the concept of irony at all. Sarcasm went right over his head, too. He admitted he’d be curious to see my hand that could not possibly be red, purple and swollen, and so I asked where his office was. Turns out he has no office. He’s an itinerant anesthesiologist. Hey – great work if you can get it, and then you don’t need to deal with pesky things like office calls, I suppose. He offered to meet me at my doctor’s place. If it’s not better by tonight, I’ll probably do that. I had to field way more concerned questions yesterday at work – “Your hand – my god – what happened to your hand!?!”

To which I did not reply, “You think my hand looks bad, you should see my vaginal walls!”

On the bright side, my new computer is glorious, and I’m enjoying the immediate gratification of instant start-up, instant loading of iTunes, etc. Life is good. I think I’ll like this little computer. And the windows should be done today. And I have Friday off (though not Saturday.) And I’ve been losing the bloat-weight from the meds, which makes me feel better. Been getting a bit crampy, though, which I suppose could be either good news (implantation!) or bad news (rejection). So I’m ignoring all nether-region sensations until I have more information. Concentrating on my weird-looking hand for the time being.

Which is not red-purple at all. Nope. Not even a little.

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