Tuesday, February 11, 2014

First Egg Freezing Cycle: Egg Retrieval

I usually sleep in on Saturdays, but not Saturday, November 23, 2013--that was my egg retrieval day and I had to be at the clinic by 7:30. As instructed, I didn’t have anything to eat or drink, not even water, after midnight the previous night. The clinic had responded to my email about messing up the trigger shot timing (see previous post) and they said not to worry about it. Phew! I hadn’t ruined everything.

My mom drove me to the clinic. You are required to have an adult pick you up after the procedure; they won’t let you go until someone is there to collect you. You are not even allowed to take a taxi.

I was starting to feel pretty nervous. I had never been under any kind of anesthesia before. My big fear was that the anesthesia wouldn’t work properly, and I would be one of those people you sometimes read about who feel pain during the procedure but cannot alert the doctors. Never mind that for egg retrieval I was not even going under general anaesthesia; I still had this fear.
A really nice nurse I had never seen before called me back and started going over the procedure with me. We sat in a little room while she explained what would happen, the risks, etc. and there was another consent form for me to sign. While she was talking, I started to feel woozy. A little dizzy, sweaty, then the room started to go black. “I’m not feeling so good,” I said and she said something like, “I was wondering about that, you were starting to look a little pale.” I told her I would like to lie down. She called for another medical assistant and the two of them walked me over to the pre-op area so I could lie down. I started feeling better almost right away. I couldn’t believe it--nothing had even happened yet and I was so nervous that I had managed to almost faint!

I was asked to change into a gown; I could keep my bra and socks on. The nurse put an IV into my arm. This was the first time I’d ever had an IV, and it didn’t hurt as much going in as I had thought it might. Then the anesthesiologist came to talk to me. He asked if I had had this procedure before (I hadn’t), asked if I’d had anesthesia before (I hadn’t), asked if I was on benzodiazepines (I wasn’t) and if I drank a lot (I don’t). Then he explained that he would be giving me Versed and Propofol, the “Michael Jackson drug.” He assured me that unlike in the case of Michael Jackson, I would be carefully monitored the entire time.

Next a fellow came to see me and ask if I had any questions. I didn’t. Another medical assistant came to see me, and she recognized me from years before and asked if we had gone to high school together. I didn’t recognize her face but I remembered her name and realized that we had actually gone to middle school together. I could tell from her rings that she was married. I didn’t ask about kids. Crazily, I felt a little jealous that she was married and therefore wouldn’t be needing to undergo egg freezing like me.

Soon I was moved from the pre-op area to procedure room. The stirrups setup was a little different than at a normal gynecologists exam; the medical assistant from my middle school had me drape my thighs over some sort of metal support. Then she placed warm, wet towels over my legs. The anaesthesiologist gave me some Versed through the IV and asked if I was feeling it. I didn’t notice anything and asked him what I should be looking for. He said it should feel like I just had a margarita. I definitely wasn’t feeling anything like that, so he said he would give me some more, and that is the last thing I remember until waking up back in the pre-op area.

When I woke up, I didn’t feel woozy and I wasn’t in any pain. I never saw the doctor--I was asleep before she had come into the operating area, and she was gone before I woke up. For all I know she had never been there at all. The nurse gave me some apple juice and graham crackers. I was very happy to have the liquid since I hadn’t been allowed to drink since midnight the night before (normally I drink a ton of water.) It wasn’t long before the nurse told me I could get dressed and gave me a post-procedure instruction sheet with the number of eggs retrieved written on it: 13. I thought that was not bad; I had been hoping for 15 but 13 would do. I changed out of my gown and went to meet my mom in the waiting room.

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