Lately, Arthur and I have been watching a lot of “Scrubs” on Netflix. Once we finished seven seasons of “How I Met Your Mother”, we needed another show that had short episodes and made both of us laugh. Normally Arthur and I don’t watch medical shows together, since I tend to pick apart every unrealistic detail, but “Scrubs” isn’t as bad as some. It’s also wickedly funny.
One of the main running gags on the show is watching attending physician Dr. Perry Cox (John C. McGinley) loose scathing diatribes, throw computers or chairs through windows, or lose his temper particularly at his resident J.D. and Chief of Medicine Dr. Kelso. If a picture tells a thousand words, I think I’ll just let this one of Dr. Cox pretty much sum up my feelings about infertility, cycles, and the whole hideous process today:
It’s never a good sign when the nurse looks at your results and says: “I have no words of wisdom here. This is a pretty abnormal cycle.” I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist of it. My damn follicles, of which I had a 16 mm, a 14 mm, and a 13 mm on Tuesday, have shrunk despite two more 100 unit doses of Follistim. I’m going to redact what I actually thought when she said that, because what I was thinking would peel paint from walls. Not at the nurse, who was actually quite nice and as helpful as she could be under the circumstances, but rather, the stream of invectives was directed straight at my ovaries.
Because it’s not the nurses’ fault that my cycle isn’t working out, I made myself smile, made conversation, and not act like a total pain. That wouldn’t be fair to them. I made it out of the building with the fakiest of fake smiles pinned to my face.
The office called me back. My E2, not great on Tuesday at 89, had dropped into the low 70s. This dovetailed with the magical shrinking follicles, so it wasn’t a total surprise, but it was still hard to hear nonetheless. My cycle is officially cancelled now.
Last cycle, I was sad when I didn’t turn up pregnant. This time, I’m furious beyond all belief. I cannot get over how unbelievably angry I am at myself and my body, which has let me down yet again. Feeling like this is very uncomfortable. Part of me just wants to follow Cox’s example because anger at the people I love is the only thing I can think of that seems like it might lessen the pain just slightly.
Unfortunately, the lesson “Scrubs” ultimately offers through Dr. Cox’s bad behavior is a much harder one. Dr. Cox is miserable, and none of his tantrums help with that for long. In my life, no matter how much I act out, no matter how much I destroy either my physical possessions like the maternity scrubs or in terms of relationships, it won’t take the aching hollowness out of my heart. Might distract me from it for a little while, but it won’t take it away or fix it.
Nothing but time, working through the feelings, and slowly allowing myself to let go of the hope I felt with this cycle is going to help in the long term. It’s just that long term solutions really suck in the short term.
“Scrubs”, all trademarks, logos, etc, are property of NBC.