In Australia, the health care system is mostly good and affordable.
You get sick, simply you can access free medical assistance in an emergency. If you need to see a specialist Dr who is either not available publicly or the wait list is too long you can pay for it and have some of the costs rebated back to you by submitting the receipts to a place called medicare. There is percentages ect and a so called scheduled fee that the government thinks that service is really worth. You NEVER get the full amounts back.
So after saying all that, there are some services that have caps to them with how many times and days in between as well as amount claimed per calender year attached to these certain item numbers. And guess what, fertility treatments and maternity fall into one of those situations.
So my cycles on ART have been short. Not excessively short, but short non the less. They have been 22-23 days long. Well according to the government system, that is too short and they need to be 26 days apart for me to be able to claim back the Dr's bill. NO I am not kidding.
So let the battle of wills begin. This is absurd and crazy. Not to mention stressfull and crazy, I am too tired to battle the government non sense, but can not afford not too. I have rung the Dr's office and asked them to go to battle on my behalf. Fingers crossed they can help, otherwise my next stop is the local federal members office.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Being me
Over the years my weight has gone up and down like a yo-yo. But funny enough I have always ended up being around the 110kgs mark. I am not sure why.
I have found it rather amusing last night when I was alone with my own thoughts that this weight seems to be where my body is most happiest. But I am not sure if that is where I am the most happiest.
I was pretty happy with my weight when I was 82kgs. But somehow there was some kind of sabotage that saw my weight go back up. I cascade of events that were beyond my control. A frustration and challenge to try and get back down in weight.
Also last night I attended a movie on my own. Rudely people decided that they HAD to sit on top of others. Namely me. A person who really needed a double seat to themselves sat in between me and her friend and started taking up my personal space. AKA was on top of me.
At the time I could not move anywhere as others had sat on the other side of me. This person at no time appologised to me or even acknowledge that I existed. Now as a plus sized person I am conscious about those around me. It is good manners to say sorry when you accidentally move into another person or bump them or even SIT on them.
I must remember that it is hard to be over a certain weight, But also remain polite. I was polite, I remained invisible. Try my hardest not to show my discomfort, but my question is where or when is it ever ok to even politely say to someone, excuse me but you are really getting into my space here? (especially in a confined space such as a packed out movie ect.)
I have found it rather amusing last night when I was alone with my own thoughts that this weight seems to be where my body is most happiest. But I am not sure if that is where I am the most happiest.
I was pretty happy with my weight when I was 82kgs. But somehow there was some kind of sabotage that saw my weight go back up. I cascade of events that were beyond my control. A frustration and challenge to try and get back down in weight.
Also last night I attended a movie on my own. Rudely people decided that they HAD to sit on top of others. Namely me. A person who really needed a double seat to themselves sat in between me and her friend and started taking up my personal space. AKA was on top of me.
At the time I could not move anywhere as others had sat on the other side of me. This person at no time appologised to me or even acknowledge that I existed. Now as a plus sized person I am conscious about those around me. It is good manners to say sorry when you accidentally move into another person or bump them or even SIT on them.
I must remember that it is hard to be over a certain weight, But also remain polite. I was polite, I remained invisible. Try my hardest not to show my discomfort, but my question is where or when is it ever ok to even politely say to someone, excuse me but you are really getting into my space here? (especially in a confined space such as a packed out movie ect.)
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Dear Lap band....
You are not my Friend today or this week.
For what ever reason you hate surges in my hormones, there for you won't allow me to eat any thing that is good for me.
So Tuesday night I ate my meal with my husband and son. Son was being a monster, nothing new at dinner time. I felt full pretty quick and stopped eating, So yay for me doing the right thing here.
About an hour later you let me know that you were not impressed with that steak in my stomach. But 3 hours later I still could not get water down without it coming straight back up.
I took myself off to the ER. What a horrible experience. To say no one understood or tried to understand what I was going through from the moment I arrived to the moment I left 20hours later is an understatement.
I should have ran when the Triage nurse (the one who you speak to at the desk to tell why you are there) asked if I had taken anything for the pain. (Yes even after I told her I could not keep down water and felt I had a complete obstruction of my band.) I was then instructed to wait in a wait.
2.5 hours later I was then seen (and I say that losely) by the second triage nurse. She took my vitals, instructed me to pee in a cup and had me wait in the waiting room. (She once again took NO medical history!)
I then went back to the waiting room for another couple of hours. Til finally a male nurse came and got two of us. He then put me in a gown and said I will be back. I never saw him again! The nurse I had seemed nice enough, but once again did not take a proper medical history. Again no one asked what medications I was taking.
After about 4 tries I finally got a drip and bloods taken, some fluids and pain meds in me. But again no one asked me what my medications where normally (only my allergies). The dr that came was rude and really had no bed side manner. ie he did not even speak to me much.
About 4:30am (Wednesday morning) I went into an uncontrollable pain spasm. It was like my stomach was being ripped apart. Next thing the nurses were putting meds in my drip. A short time later some one else stuck oxygen on me.
When I came back out of it about 45 mins later I asked what my test results were and if I was pregnant. The response came "Do you think we would give you these drugs if you were." So that is how I found out I was not pregnant this cycle.
I was then sent to x-ray when business hours ticked over. And then to short stay where I was pretty much left until another Dr came to see me at 2:30pm to tell me the x-ray results and the fact she needed me to see a surgeon.
The surgeon came just before 4pm with a promise to talk to my surgeon who was away at conference just like the hospitals bariatric surgeon. At 6:30pm he came back to me and told me I was going home. To see my Dr Tuesday next week.
So Thursday I rang the x-ray clinic, begged for a scan to make sure there was no blockage left. Which thankfully there was not.(my GP rang and got the results for me.)
What a 48 hour period. I am now eating normally again with no issues. But this morning I go back to my surgeon. I am hoping I am not yelled and screamed at this time.
For what ever reason you hate surges in my hormones, there for you won't allow me to eat any thing that is good for me.
So Tuesday night I ate my meal with my husband and son. Son was being a monster, nothing new at dinner time. I felt full pretty quick and stopped eating, So yay for me doing the right thing here.
About an hour later you let me know that you were not impressed with that steak in my stomach. But 3 hours later I still could not get water down without it coming straight back up.
I took myself off to the ER. What a horrible experience. To say no one understood or tried to understand what I was going through from the moment I arrived to the moment I left 20hours later is an understatement.
I should have ran when the Triage nurse (the one who you speak to at the desk to tell why you are there) asked if I had taken anything for the pain. (Yes even after I told her I could not keep down water and felt I had a complete obstruction of my band.) I was then instructed to wait in a wait.
2.5 hours later I was then seen (and I say that losely) by the second triage nurse. She took my vitals, instructed me to pee in a cup and had me wait in the waiting room. (She once again took NO medical history!)
I then went back to the waiting room for another couple of hours. Til finally a male nurse came and got two of us. He then put me in a gown and said I will be back. I never saw him again! The nurse I had seemed nice enough, but once again did not take a proper medical history. Again no one asked what medications I was taking.
After about 4 tries I finally got a drip and bloods taken, some fluids and pain meds in me. But again no one asked me what my medications where normally (only my allergies). The dr that came was rude and really had no bed side manner. ie he did not even speak to me much.
About 4:30am (Wednesday morning) I went into an uncontrollable pain spasm. It was like my stomach was being ripped apart. Next thing the nurses were putting meds in my drip. A short time later some one else stuck oxygen on me.
When I came back out of it about 45 mins later I asked what my test results were and if I was pregnant. The response came "Do you think we would give you these drugs if you were." So that is how I found out I was not pregnant this cycle.
I was then sent to x-ray when business hours ticked over. And then to short stay where I was pretty much left until another Dr came to see me at 2:30pm to tell me the x-ray results and the fact she needed me to see a surgeon.
The surgeon came just before 4pm with a promise to talk to my surgeon who was away at conference just like the hospitals bariatric surgeon. At 6:30pm he came back to me and told me I was going home. To see my Dr Tuesday next week.
So Thursday I rang the x-ray clinic, begged for a scan to make sure there was no blockage left. Which thankfully there was not.(my GP rang and got the results for me.)
What a 48 hour period. I am now eating normally again with no issues. But this morning I go back to my surgeon. I am hoping I am not yelled and screamed at this time.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Pain and waiting games
So that dreaded 2 week wait is coming to it's final days. It is the most frustrating period of the cycle. Because what done is done. Can't change the course now and you just have to ride the roller coaster.
Roller coaster indeed it is of emotions and pains. You go from full of hope to oh this has not worked and back again over and over again. several times a day.
This weeks 2 week wait ends with a wedding. The last thing I want to be doing if AF arrives is going to a wedding. (she can be very nasty to me.) I want to be able to wear a beautiful spring dress, but if she is here I will have to go with a little black dress instead.
But we will see hat happens. Right now I have killer cramps on the left side making me wonder what the heck is going on. With my Dr on leave I can't just call and ask either. So we wait and see.
Roller coaster indeed it is of emotions and pains. You go from full of hope to oh this has not worked and back again over and over again. several times a day.
This weeks 2 week wait ends with a wedding. The last thing I want to be doing if AF arrives is going to a wedding. (she can be very nasty to me.) I want to be able to wear a beautiful spring dress, but if she is here I will have to go with a little black dress instead.
But we will see hat happens. Right now I have killer cramps on the left side making me wonder what the heck is going on. With my Dr on leave I can't just call and ask either. So we wait and see.
Vacation Fun
So here we are in week two of the spring break holidays. Thomas got an awesome surprise on Friday when we had a nice lunch date, small shop and then followed it up with a play date with one of his friends at a lego play centre that pops up for the school holidays.
On Sunday we then had a nice family day out to the beach and pacific fair. Watching the boys play in the sand whilst I read a book was awesome.
We also got to see the Westpac rescue chopper at work winching swimmers out of a rip one by one and depositing them on the sand. (They did this about 5 times.) This rescue was about 1km from where we were.
It just reminds me of how lucky we are to live so close to amazing beaches that are patrolled so well.
 |
| Lunch Date |
We also got to see the Westpac rescue chopper at work winching swimmers out of a rip one by one and depositing them on the sand. (They did this about 5 times.) This rescue was about 1km from where we were.
It just reminds me of how lucky we are to live so close to amazing beaches that are patrolled so well.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Mummy guilt
There is this one thing that pops up from time to time known as mummy guilt. Usually when something happens to your child and you were not there for what ever reason to prevent it happening.
Today I am suffering majour mummy guilt. You see it is school holidays here and I had enrolled Mr T into a vacation care program for him to do some fun activities and for me to have some down time. Also he did not get the concept of two weeks at home with me.
Last holidays it went very well (apart from hm learning some swear words, but that was easy enough to have a chat about), so I had no hesitation of rebooking him in and another one of his friends joined him. So they got to spend a few days together playing too.
Well Monday night he came home with a cut under his eye, Spoke to the staff Tuesday and they confessed another boy scratched him.
Tuesday night, no incidents noted. But Wednesday he was not keen on going, but made him go. When I picked him up the first thing I saw was two large gouge marks on his shoulder. I asked the nearest staff member as the more senior staff were dealing with another child. He told me a boy had scratched him in the sand pit and that they had been working to keep the two apart but were not quick enough in this instance.
This morning I confrounted the senior girls about this. The younger staff member THEN told them what had happened. They promised me he would be fine today as the other boy was not down as coming in.
At 1pm I got a phone call to say they were applying first aid to T a he had been attacked by this boy again. That the next call was to his parents. They have no idea why he was this childs target but are working with the parents.
The guilt started. What have I done to my boy. He is just 5. I know he is loud boystous and a bit in your face. But he does not need to be attacked.
The guilt is not going away.
I want to cry. I was not there to protect him. He is small in comparison to these other boys. He really just wants to be everyones friend.
I have since called the co-ordinator who is going to send me the paperwork to make a complaint. (These are serious claw marks.) It is not easing my pain and guilt.
Today I am suffering majour mummy guilt. You see it is school holidays here and I had enrolled Mr T into a vacation care program for him to do some fun activities and for me to have some down time. Also he did not get the concept of two weeks at home with me.
Last holidays it went very well (apart from hm learning some swear words, but that was easy enough to have a chat about), so I had no hesitation of rebooking him in and another one of his friends joined him. So they got to spend a few days together playing too.
Well Monday night he came home with a cut under his eye, Spoke to the staff Tuesday and they confessed another boy scratched him.
Tuesday night, no incidents noted. But Wednesday he was not keen on going, but made him go. When I picked him up the first thing I saw was two large gouge marks on his shoulder. I asked the nearest staff member as the more senior staff were dealing with another child. He told me a boy had scratched him in the sand pit and that they had been working to keep the two apart but were not quick enough in this instance.
This morning I confrounted the senior girls about this. The younger staff member THEN told them what had happened. They promised me he would be fine today as the other boy was not down as coming in.
At 1pm I got a phone call to say they were applying first aid to T a he had been attacked by this boy again. That the next call was to his parents. They have no idea why he was this childs target but are working with the parents.
The guilt started. What have I done to my boy. He is just 5. I know he is loud boystous and a bit in your face. But he does not need to be attacked.
The guilt is not going away.
I want to cry. I was not there to protect him. He is small in comparison to these other boys. He really just wants to be everyones friend.
I have since called the co-ordinator who is going to send me the paperwork to make a complaint. (These are serious claw marks.) It is not easing my pain and guilt.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
I hate hormones
Ok so I know that most infertiles embrace morning sickness.
Heck I know I would. IF were at the right time and place. Today at 3 days past insemination is not the time or place. Surely it can wait another 2 weeks to start hounding me.
But this gives new meaning to pregnant until proven otherwise!
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