‘No, I’m afraid she needs to discuss this with you in person. Can you come in at 10.30am?’
‘Eh, yea. Sure.’
What was all this about. I normally just got the results over the phone and a follow up visit in which they took more blood. Sitting into the taxi on the way home, I thought have they actually found something now? I tried not to show my concern to Brandon but I did spend the rest of the evening fretting about my appointment.
Waking the following morning, the sun streamed through the window as we lay in bed.
‘So wifey, what would you like to do today?’
‘I have that doctor’s appointment this morning, remember?’
Turning to me, ‘Oh yea, I had forgotten. Are you worried?’
‘I don’t know, it’s probably nothing, it’s been nothing for the past few months.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ He said supportively.
‘Thanks.’ I smiled at him, wondering should I be worried at all.
Later that morning, sitting in the doctor’s surgery I tried to imagine why she might want to see me in person. I didn’t feel sick so it couldn’t be anything too serious. I waited to be called.
‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ Brandon asked a little concerned.
‘No, no you’re grand. You can wait here.’
The Doctor called me soon after that and I went through.
‘Hi Faye, how are you? How was the wedding and the honeymoon?’
‘They were great, we had an amazing time!’ Sounding far too enthusiastic.
‘Great! Right the reason I asked you to come in is, well the most recent tests we did before the wedding are back and I have a couple of questions that I want to run through with you.’ Clearly Dr. Greene wasn’t in a humour to chit chat and wanted to get straight down to business.
‘Ok…’ I was getting a bit nervous and wishing I had asked Brandon to come in.
‘Right, we talked before about your periods becoming irregular. When was your last period?’
Hmmm let me think, it was October now and my last period had been …April, my last period was April.’ I watched as she jotted some notes down.
‘Ok good, and the hair growth, is that still the same?’ She asked without looking up.
I cringed; it was the most embarrassing thing in the world. I steady supply of dark bristle grew all over me from my navel to my nose. I had hoped to have it lasered off before the wedding but it was more than I could afford right then and I didn’t have the time. I shaved it daily. Brandon knew all about it. Well it had gotten to the stage that I couldn’t keep it from him anymore; he said he didn’t notice it, but I was still paranoid.
‘Yes, it’s still pretty much the same.’ I admitted, mortally embarrassed.
‘Ok.’ Not even batting an eyelid.
I stared out at her as she wrote some more notes and read through my file.
‘Ok Faye, your most recent test results show an increased level of the hormone testosterone. This would explain the hair growth and the unbalance in your hormones would go some way to explaining the irregular periods. I am going to send you for an Ultra sound and an MRI to get a much better picture as to what we are dealing with here. I am almost sure that you have a condition called Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS for short. It’s a condition that affects about 1 in 10 women and many of the symptoms you display would be attributed to it. The ultra sound and MRI should be able to tell us more. I am also going to recommend you on to an Endocrinologist – a hormone specialist. Dr. Jones is his name and he is based in the O’Malley Clinic. Make an appointment to see him when you leave, he has a waiting list so it might take a few weeks. Schedule these two tests for before you go to him and ask the clinic to send copies to both him and me.’
I sat there, listening as she explained various things to me and what would happen. I didn’t take much of it in. After months of tests they had actually found something. Or potentially found something. I felt numb sitting there, I was so used to going in and out of the doctors with no answers that now I actually had one, I didn’t know what I felt.
‘Now Faye, at this point there is nothing to be worried about. Do you have any questions?’
Dr. Greene had finally stopped talking. I think a minute or two passed before I realised.
Questions? Of course I had questions, but my mind was blank. ‘No, thanks Doctor, I think you covered it all for now.’ I listened to myself in total disbelief.
‘Ok, good. Amy will give you the numbers you need. Any problems and give us a ring.’ She said as she walked me to the door.
I walked back down the corridor. My mind was full of everything. What was Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome? – now that would have been a question to ask! I took the details from Amy and walked back out into the waiting room. Brandon looked up at my eagerly and came over to me.
‘Everything ok?’ he was now overly concerned. The look on my face must have worried him.
‘I’ll tell you in the car.’ He looked at me worried.
On the short trip home, I relayed as much as I could remember to him, which, I realised wasn’t much. I wasn’t able to answer any of the questions he asked. Important ones, ones I should have asked.
‘Don’t worry Faye we can take a look online and this specialist should be able to tell us more.’
Minutes later, we sat at the kitchen table waiting for Brandon’s laptop to boot up. Typing Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome into the search bar 3,650,000 results came up. We looked at each other – so it did exist and it was well documented. We flipped through a few sites and got the gist of it.
Basically I had a hormone imbalance. I overproduced certain sex hormones and insulin.
‘Well that explains your high sex drive!’ he joked.
It seemed it was quiet a common condition and perfectly liveable with. Sure some of the symptoms were not pleasant; irregular or no periods, acne, excess hair (Hirsutism), weight gain, male pattern baldness, thyroid problems, type 2 diabetes, fertility problems, sleep apnoea, and high blood pressure. But I imagined once the specialist began treatment, those that I had would disappear. The only downside I saw initially was that it wasn’t curable. But I was an optimist – medical science moved at a rapid pace, anything could happen in the future and sure if I had to take tablets for the rest of my life was that really going to be so bad. I realized now that I must have worked myself up, as I read a few short paragraphs, I realized I really didn’t have anything to worry about. I rang the Specialist and secured an appointment for 5 weeks away and booked in for the Ultra sounds and MRI, the week before. I thought little else of it and we went back to being blissfully happy newlywed couple.
Chapter 26 – Just like a children’s book.
Any good fairy tale, worth its weight in gold ends with ‘And they lived happily ever after…’ It’s an ending that was read to us countless times as kids but did you ever think to wonder what their happily ever after consisted of? Me neither… but I was living mine. I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than coming home to Brandon every night and relaxing in our home and waking up in his arms every morning. The only fly in my ointment was that I wasn’t pregnant.
I wrestled with the idea of bringing up the ‘baby talk’ again and seeing if I could negotiate a better time span but something kept putting me off. Brandon was making a real name for himself in work and I could see that within a year, if things remained the way they were going, we would be in an excellent position career wise. Perhaps waiting a little while, until we were both better established in our careers would be a good thing.
I also wanted to be 100% sure that Brandon had no further desire to go back and do an internship in CNN or anywhere else for that matter. It was something he had never brought up after he had come back from Ireland. Which in one way, I thought strange; before, when we were first dating, before he left for CNN, it was all he talked about. Then again, I had come to realise with Brandon, if something hurt him or it was too emotional for him t
o talk about, like when talking about his Dad, he didn’t; he just shut down. I expect making that decision to leave the internship and come back to me was one of the most difficult he has ever made.
Before I knew it, five weeks had passed and it was time for my appointment. I had decided that going to this Specialist was nothing at all, nothing could touch me, and so while Brandon offered to come, I assured him there was no need. Even though, I didn’t expect the appointment to take long, I had decided to treat myself to the day off and Chloe and I had arranged to meet up to go shopping for baby clothes afterwards. At 17 weeks, she had developed the cutest little bump.
I arrived early to the Clinic, traffic had been light and parked up and headed inside, hoping for a coffee. The dubious machine in the corner of the waiting room looked like it had seen better days so I settled on some tepid water from the cooler. I casually flicked through the range of magazines on offer and read about the latest celebrity fad diet. I looked up when my name was called and an elderly gentleman in a green sweater and brown cords stood in the doorway. I walked forward and he extended his hand.
‘Faye, I am Dr. Jones, lovely to meet you.’ He shook my hand and indicated to me to walk through a set of doors. I followed him into his office which appeared to be large but were dwarfed by the floor to ceiling shelves that were stuffed to the gills with books, papers and files. I sat down opposite him and waited as he read through my file.
‘Ah I see. Hmmm, well I see Dr. Greene has briefly outlined her understandings of the findings and I would agree. It appears Faye that you have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. I would of course, like to examine you myself, if that is ok? Just before we discuss options etc?’
‘Sure.’ I said happily.
‘Ok, you would like to pop yourself up there on the table.’ He pointed to a black examination table in the corner of the room.
Used to the routine at this point, I moved and twisted as he examined my stomach, felt my ovaries, took my blood pressure and weighed me.
‘Right, thank you for that, you can fix yourself up and take a seat again.’ He said returned to his desk.
Returning to my seat, I waited again as he wrote down some notes.
‘Now Faye, has Dr. Greene explained to you what Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome is?’ he looked up at me, removing his glasses.
‘She did a bit, and I’ve done some research on it myself.’ I said, now feeling that perhaps there was more to come.
‘Good, do you have any questions on it at this time?’ he looked questioningly at me.
‘No, I don’t think so.’ I sounded unsure and felt it too.
‘Ok, I will give you the name of a book that I suggest you read. It will answer anything that might crop up in the future and of course I and Dr. Greene are on hand too. Before we get to that however I would like to discuss some of your options with you. Your ultra sounds and MRI scan were sent through to me here, what they illustrate is that both your ovaries are surrounded by small black masses that we call noids. These ‘noids’ started out as eggs and because of your imbalance in hormones were unable to carry on to their natural path of either fertilisation or resulting in a period. These are something that we will have to monitor as, over time, if left unchecked there is the possibility they could turn cancerous. Are you married Faye?’
‘Em yes, 2 months.’ My head begun to swim a little now, what had being married got to do with this?
‘I see. Are you going to start a family straight way?’
Dr. Jones sounded methodical but I was caught off guard by the private nature of the question.
‘Em, no, we’ve decided to wait a little…. ’
Something clicked into place then; periods, I had told Dr. Green my last period was April, that was almost 7 months ago and Dr. Jones had just said that I had ‘noids’ around my ovaries. It all came crashing down on top of me when I realised that one of the symptoms of PCOS was fertility problems. Oh good god, NO!
‘Right I see. Is your husband with you here today?’
‘No’ My mind was utterly swimming.
‘That’s ok. Would you like a glass of water Faye?’
I nodded. Tears pricked my eyes.
Handing me a glass of water he continued; ‘Faye for me to treat the Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, the medication you will have to take causes serious complications for both the mother and unborn child if someone was to become pregnant while taking it, as a result we prescribe the pill while you are taking it. However, the reason I say you need to make a decision here Faye is…’
Decision? ‘Sorry Doctor, you hadn’t mentioned a decision?’
‘Oh right yes, well Faye the thing is…, well the thing is, based on the tests that have been carried out and the evidence indicated by these ultra sounds and MRI scan, your chances of conceiving a child naturally are greatly reduced.’
He paused with a sympathetic look, as though to let that sink in. Conceive naturally… greatly reduced… what did all this mean? My head started to spin again.
‘Faye, you and your husband will need to decide whether you wish to try for a family or treat your condition right now.’
He looked at me, my head was swimming.
‘I will explain your options to you and their ramifications. If you decide to treat the condition now, I can write you a prescription and we can address the various symptoms you are experiencing and continue to monitor you with bi annual visits. I would suggest you consider at least a 3 year cycle of this option for it to have any real effect on your symptoms. If you decided to choose the ‘try to conceive’ option I can start you on a course of Metformin, which while traditionally a drug used to treat Diabetes, can also stimulate the ovaries into production. This will hopefully return your periods and result in a pregnancy. Now for the complications.’
He took a breath and so did I. Complications? Neither of these options seemed particularly hard or gruelling. In fact three years was exactly the time we had agreed to wait anyways.
‘ Faye, your chances of conceiving with or without help are slim. Your ovaries have been badly affected by this. Had this have been caught sooner, there is possibly more we could have done for you. Did you start your periods at a young age?’ He sounded grave now.
‘Ten.’ It was barely a whisper. I was getting worried.
‘I see. Right now, even with the Metformin your chances will be slim. Obviously, if it’s not effective there are other methods and options we can look at. I won’t hazard a guess at what your chances stand at, but if you were successful in getting pregnant I’m afraid the complications don’t end there. Because of the PCOS your chances of miscarriage are higher, in the region of about 35%-45%, gestational diabetes would be another major concern as would a multiple pregnancy, especially with your history of high blood pressure.’
I was speechless. How had all this happened? I was fine, I felt fine, and I was healthy. This couldn’t be happening. Getting pregnant was the most natural thing in the world.
‘How much of a chance do I have?’ The words scarcely left my lips.
‘Sorry Faye?’ he asked, not sure I had I spoken at all.
‘How much of a chance do I have at getting pregnant?’ I spoke clearer, but not by much.
‘I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess Faye.’
‘How much Doctor, please, what do you think my chances are?’ My eyes pleaded with him.
He hesitated before he spoke. ‘Right now, somewhere between 40% -60%.’
‘With a 35% - 45% chance of miscarriage?’ I felt the blood drain from my face as I said it.
‘That’s right.’ He said looking directly at me.
‘And if I wait, wait the 3 years, how much then?’ I feared this answer.
‘Maybe 30%-40%. The younger you are the better. The closer you are to 35 the less I would recommend it. The dangers are too high for you and the child. I’m sorry. This must be a lot to take in. Is your husband nearby? Shall I ask the nurse to call him?’ He could see the effect the realisations
were having on me.
‘No, he’s at work’ Desperately wishing he wasn’t.
‘I understand it’s not a decision you can make right now. Take some time; we can schedule another appointment when you have both had time to consider the options.’
He looked at me now, not quite pity in his eyes, maybe more like understanding. I looked up at him and smiled weakly. My happily ever after seemed to be crumbling around me.
I walked out of the clinic numb and in shock. I was 26, young, fit and healthy. At least I thought I was healthy. I sat in the car, staring out the window for 40 minutes until someone knocked on my window and asked me was I leaving. I don’t even remember the journey home. I put the car in reverse at the Clinic and the next thing I remember I was pulling into the drive. My phone flashed with missed calls on the passenger seat. I didn’t even remember hearing it ring. I let myself in and sat on the couch. My phone flashed again, it was Brandon.
‘Hey, how did you get on?’
‘You need to come home.’ It was all I could say.
‘I’ll be there in 15.’
I didn’t move, scarcely breathing. Fifteen minutes later Brandon came through the door and found me on the couch. He sat on the coffee table directly in front of me.
‘Faye, Faye, what is it. Are you ok? Tell me please, its killing me.’
I bowed my head. I didn’t know how to start. I didn’t know where to begin. And then something hit me. He could leave me. He would fully be within his rights to leave me. We were catholic, if I couldn’t give him a child he could leave me. The Church would annul our marriage on that basis. One of their primary aims in marriage was to increase the number of Christians, we had been told that in our pre marriage course, and I couldn’t do that. I started to cry.
‘Oh Faye, what is it. What did the Doctor say? Please, please tell me.’
It all came tumbling out, backwards and sideward. It took me nearly two hours to explain it all to him. I’m sure I left out parts too. He just listened, asking the occasional question. When I finished, he held me.
‘I’m not going to leave you Faye, no matter what. Even if we can’t have our own children, there are other ways. As long as we are together that’s all that matters. I love you.’
The Meaning of Purple Tulips Page 14