HOUSE MD

Hello again dear reader.....we find ourselves now at the start of 'the process'....

I've always fancied myself as one of those 'cool' doctors. If I had the time/talent/stomach/intelligence to become one. Dr Doug out of ER, or Greg House...mean, moody...but nevertheless brilliant. The only problem being, I would never have been able to stand the ridiculous amount of time spent studying, and then....cutting people up, stitches...no way. Not for me.

So imagine my delight at the next stage of the IVF process. 

Injecting the wife. 

Cue all sorts of jokes - 'Isnt that the problem anyway!'.....'Shoudnt it be a pork sausage injection'....'She gets a little prick all the time' (that one -  most cruelly was from Mrs Harper)

Finished? Ok....lets tell you why I'm having to do this then.

We are at the stage now in the IVF process, when things are starting to happen....at long last, we have lift off. Firstly we had around a grands worth of drugs delivered to the house, not something that happens everyday. The one piece of advice we were given, was that some of the drugs need to be refrigerated...they would be in a cool box...and would need to be put in the fridge immediately.

So what did I do?

I put the medical ice packs in the fridge - leaving the drugs in the box......luckily we realised the mistake, and rectified the slight mistake

Ahem.

Everything else seemed to be there, all the syringes for the daily injections, and a box called 'Prostap' see this for techie jargon http://www.netdoctor.co.uk/medicines/100002181.html . This is the first of all the injections that will be administered to Lulu when she has her next period.  It's weird how I can talk about the inner workings of my wife's womb to all and sundry at the moment, people at work know exactly when my wife 'has the painters in'. It's also funny, when I start talking about the process to people, and you can see their eyes glaze over. Not because they are uninterested in whats happening to our lives, but the complexities of egg collection, not the sort of conversation they are comfortable with. Needless to say...im having fun with it.

So now we have all the necessary implements, we need to decide on The Implementer. Who would be administering the injections, both the first one...and then when we really start chugging, the daily ones (which have to be done at the same time each day).

I of course held my hand up. ( I was in the St Johns Ambulance when I was 11. For a week.) So I felt I had the necessary qualities to 'step up'. I'm not that squeamish, and to be honest.....got quite excited about giving my wife daily injections.....(No more jokes please).

The date for the first injection, or 'First Strike' as I'm now calling it, was around the 21st of March...depending on when its Lulu's flag day. We decided to get away from it all, and pop up to Durham. My wife has family up there, and one of them keeps a house...which we had been offered. This seemed perfect, a nice break, relax, take the dog for long walks, eat, sleep, and pump my wife full of leuprorelin acetate. A perfect weekend.

The time came......on Saturday. We settled down at the kitchen table (all serious thinking/actions should be done at a kitchen table), made sure the dog was out of the way...he would love to play with the 'pointy sticky thing'. I turned the radio off....we were in the middle of nowhere and the only radio station we could get was Radio One....my wife was not happy with this monumental day being marked by soundtrack from Tinie Tempah.First we had to mix the medicine, and then take it into the syringe, replace the needle with the one for injection, tap, make sure of no air bubbles...and away you go.

Now after reading, and re-reading the instructions a couple of times, they told you to....

'Inject into the skin next/below the belly button, ensuring the needle is at least 1cm in...and depress plunger slowly until all solution has been deployed'

This would be quite easy if your wife, at the first insertion screamed  - 'OUCHIE OUCHIE OUCHIE GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT'

I proceeded to 'plunge' a little faster. Fearful that I had hurt my wife, I think I may have made things worse by pulling the needle out at an angle......I could feel a little, scraping. That must've smarted a bit. But she was a brave little soldier, and I proceeded to think of myself as 2011's answer to Dr Kildare (kids, speak to your parents). I need a white coat, and one of those mask thingys......

Now....we do a little more waiting.

31st of March to be exact, when I take my wife into the clinic for a scan...then we will begin on the daily injections.....and now I'm a veteran....it should be a doddle. In fact I'm thinking of spreading my medical wings somewhat....in to plastic surgery. 

I feel boob jobs are my calling......

EPISODE V - A NEW HOPE

Hey interested jizz readers.

How are you? Me? Well, I'm doing better. After last times shenanigans...things seem to be picking up. By now you will all know about our date with Dr Bitchfromhell. If not......then scroll down and take a goosy gander, its staggering.
We had another appointment yesterday, this time with the nurse. To be frank, I wasn't expecting anything from this appt. All last week, I thought they would call again rearranging for another time that would be almost impossible for me and the wife.

We had no call last week.


Ok.....We'd get there and they'd say they've made a big mistake and the funding has been cut from the IVF program.

They said no such thing.


Right, well while sitting in the waiting room, Dr Bitchfromhell would spot us, and using the dark side of the force, put my wife in a choke hold....I would leap from my seat, somersaulting towards the sith lord...at the same time as charging up my lightsabre ready for battle.  The finesse of my moves would put her off the choke hold for a split second, allowing me time for a frenzied attack...that left her lying on the ground, motionless....and at the edge of life.

There was no such battle (wouldve looked cool though)


In fact, the nurse came out and called our name at 2pm. Which by some staggering coincidence was the time of our appt. She took some papers off us, and said we'd be called in soon. Soon it was, only 5 minutes went by, when the same nurse...lets call her Nurse Fluffyandnice, popped back in the waiting room and guided us to a scan room for a chat.

And that's what we did. Chat. We chatted about the process, we chatted about any fears we had, we chatted about what would happen next,  we chatted about the price of fish (almost...but you get my drift). This was amazing. At last.....things started to happen.

She dealt with any worries I or Lulu had with a calm reassurance of a medical proffesional that knows how to handle.....human beings. She asked us whether we would be interested in taking part in one Doctors study about the chance of OHSS (jargon!!! see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ovarian_hyperstimulation_syndrome ) Of course we would! Would you like a kidney? What about some bone marrow...thats always in need!??!

At this point I think we would've said yes to anything. Luckily, they declined the kidney and bone marrow, but did take some blood, and my wee. (More tests before the fun starts!) It turns out that saying yes to this study, may not be such a bad thing, the Dr....from now on Dr Lovely....would be taking a special interest in our case, so we will get some 'preferential' treatment. Boom. We like preferential treatment. All it means is a couple of extra blood tests and scans for Lulu.....so not much from us at all. And you never know, it could help people in the future.

They took Lulu off for a scan in a different scan room, leaving me on my own........I had a sudden urge to play with the equipment....I wondered if I could scan myself. I mean it can't be that hard...switch it on, put some jelly stuff on my belly OOOOO COLD! Then rub the thingy (I believe thats the technical term) over my belly. Of course I didnt do this, as I know what would happen.

I would just be undressing and putting the jelly on my hands when they all walked back in.....'I was just....erm....going to try out the machine....., What other reason would I have for lubing up my hands'

Anyhoo - time flew in this appt - we were there for over 2 hours! (lucky we didnt get a car park ticket..that ran out after 1hr 30 mins!) We now have drugs on order.....something called a prostap injection. I have to give this to the wife...

MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes, I will be Greg House, a brilliant Dr...but with a gruff, unlikeable exterior. The nurse taught me how to do it......I cannot wait.  After that injection, we wait a couple of weeks....and then start different injections....one a day, every day at the exact same time for a week or so.

(Yes, I have to adminster them too.....! Yippee!)

So I will leave you here......we should be Go Go Gadget around the 21st March. Then the process should take around 4 weeks. All I have to do now is inject the wife a few times (pfnarr) and jizz in a cup for (hopefully) the last time.......

Cuppy's last hurrah.

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK.......

Its been a while since my last post on this blog, and for this I heartily apologise. If I had anything to tell you about the IVF process since my last musings......of course I would have. But alas.....there has been slow progress. we've been waiting for an appointment to come through the post...detailing when THE PROCESS, will start.

I could've written and told you all about our lovely Christmas, where my wife/Santa (there may be kids reading) outdid herself getting me a Six Million Dollar Man doll, and a Ukulele ( I got loads more but dont wish to bore).  I may have sat down and told you about my best friend breaking his collar bone, and hand in a mountain bike accident. (he looked in awful pain for quite a while...and a bit stupid with a plastic claw).

All very interesting, and would make for a wonderful, if slightly run of the mill blog.

Actually something did happen before Christmas, we had to attend (all part of THE PROCESS) a evening seminar on IVF/ICSI at the Leeds Centre for Reproductive Medicine in Seacroft. I was quite excited to be able to show my wife the place of my last liason with cuppy. The evening went into a lot of detail, by use of a few powerpoint presentations, about THE PROCESS, and what we can expect. You can never see enough V-Jay Jay's and Willys on power point presentations I feel. It was informative, but what struck me most....was the amount of people in the same boat as us. The room was packed. All ages, all worried, all hoping for the same thing. It was well worth attendning though...and we went away knowing that the next stage....would be the first stage in THE PROCESS.


Exciting huh!

And we waited.

Then, in late November a letter arrived. Our appointment was scheduled for 19th January at 1:30pm. Excellent, I wouldnt have to take any time off work, and the ball was now rolling. Sit back and enjoy Christmas.

God Bless Us Everyone.

Until the week before the appointment (last week as I write this) the clinic phoned my wife and said that the appt has been cancelled. Can we make 9am on the same day. I don't think they realise that people have, oh what are they called......ah yes.... JOBS! Luckily for us, both our employers were flexible enough to move some stuff around and let us have some time off....for this was the start of THE PROCESS.

So this morning,  my wife awoke at around 4am. I had a bit of a lie in until 630am (I get up at 5 usually) We took the dog out, and left for the appt around 8am...getting to the clinic at 830. Nice. Early. No problemo.
We were called in to see the Doctor, lets for argument and legal reasons call her Dr Bitchfromhell.

She sat us down, and started running through our details, name, age, occupation...

'Oh I know you're a Radio Presnter!'

This is good I thought.....bit of extra nice service Im thinking.....

Then Dr Bitchfromhell  started to tell us that my sperm sample was all fine.

'Say what now?'

Regular readers will know that many Doctors have already told us that the main reason for infertility with us is my low sperm count, and low motility...they dont want to swim....and those that do, swim backwards. According to Dr Bitchfromhell that isnt the only reason...my wifes polycystic ovaries are also too blame. Put us together...and you've got one infertile couple.

This is what our GP told us when we started THE PROCESS last April 2010.......yes APRIL 2010! But since then the reason for not getting pregnant has flitted between the two. No one has given us the same answer twice, and to be honest....I don't care.

I know we can't get pregnant...I know its because certain things are not working in either or both of us....we just want to get on with IVF now please!

This appt was beginning to feel like deja vu. We were going over all the ground we have been over four, maybe five times with different people. Sending my wife for scans on her ovaries.....again to see whats happening, I was half expecting to see cuppy again...my wife and I start looking at each other with a 'what the fuck' face. And together we ask Dr Bitchfromhell the same thing...

'We've been through this few times now, we thought that today was the start of THE PROCESS...thats what we were told. Can you tell us whats going to happen now? How long will it take for this to all happen now....we've been on THE PROCESS since April...'

At this point, what happened next absolutely blew my mind. I quote now pretty much word for word what Dr Bitchfromhell said to our enquiry.........

'We have a process.....do not get aggressive with me, I do not appreciate people getting aggressive with me, I will tell you what happens in good time.'

You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. Let me make this clear. At no point did either myself or my wife get 'aggressive'. If asking a question, after being bounced from pillar to post for nearly a year is aggressive...then lock me up now. Then to all intense and purposes she threw her toys out of the pram.

While filling out a bit of paperwork she then said........'Do you have any questions........Of course you dont....you know IT ALL'

Im sorry? Did you just get 'aggressive'?

She then went on to tell us about the open evening we had to attend.....something we did FOUR months ago.

We got out of there pretty sharpish as you can imagine. We booked our next appointment (a nurse consultation) for 21st Feb...and left in shock. Speechless.....bloody speechless. I have never been spoken to like that, in that tone since I was in primary school.

This Dr Bitchfromhell should not be a patient facing professional, she has no idea of how to handle social situations. Even if we were aggressive (which we were not) she should know that this is an extremely emotional situation, and peoples feelings are on the edge. How to handle people, and maybe empathy for them should be a prerequisite for all medical professionals, and especially ones dealing with such volatile emotional material.

I am absolutely disgusted with how we've been treated today, and will be writing a terse letter to her superiors....but that will have to wait, as we need her right now dont we. I'm quite a calm person, a glass is half full type of chap, always try to see the good in people. But after today, calmness is out of the window, the glass is now smashed on the floor, and sod the good in Dr Bitchfromhell.

She is on my shit list.

She is the only one on there. (Well, her and Jar Jar Binks)

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES

The last time we spoke, cuppy had left me. Hopefully I would only see her one more time, and then our brief, but ultimately unsatisfying relationship would be at an end. This was the last test to check whether we could go down the route of IUI (http://www.womens-health.co.uk/iui.html) or down the pregnancy cul-de-sac that is IVF.

It all depends on my swimmers, how handsome they are (morphology) how fast they swim, and the amount that do swim. The main reason we wanted to go for IUI was also financial. You see, you get 5 goes under our NHS trust at IUI...and only one shot at IVF. All your eggs in one basket as it were. So you can imagine...this result was like X-Factor times a million, just without four twats judging you. Just one scientist, casting their astute eye over my jizz.
We did as we were told, as soon as the sample was given we made an appointment with the Doctors at Pinderfield Hospital, and we waited.

And waited...

Until, our appointment card arrived.

5 weeks away.

And on a school day...again! More time off work.

So it came to the day of the appointment, I had arranged for 2 hours off from work thanks to a very understanding boss. And trotted off to the Hospital to meet the wife (lulu - you may remember her from previous postings). Our appointment was for 11am - I had to be back to the studios for around 12.15. Plenty of time.

Nope.

Thats only if the appointment is on time. Which it wasnt. It never is with these people. What is the point in booking a time 5 weeks in advance if your not going to keep it. I was getting very stressed, there was people in the waiting room with appt times of 10am....that still hadnt been seen at 1145!!! This is a shambles. I know we have one of the best health services in the world, and its free (for the most part). I have lived in other countries (Australia) where you have to pay for everything, so I understand what a godsend the NHS is. It really is.
But I was getting rather angry. That in turn wasnt making my wife happy, this is a stressful enough situation, without the added drama of late appts. It got to midday...and I had to leave. Not the best situation in the world....but what else could I do.
My wife eventually went into the appt at 1230. An hour and a half late.

Bastards.

My wife called me after to give me the news. And it wasnt good.

My swimmers were worse than we thought.....in fact first of all my wife told me they were almost completely useless. This was the info she gave me...

63,000,000 sperm of which 4,000 are any good.

WHATTHEFUCK???!??!?!?!?

My mind was reeling, only 4,000! The odds are not good. If this was a darts match, Phil 'The Power' Taylor would struggle hitting the bullseye. And Im crap at darts.

Thankfully the figures werent as bad as that - turns out the wife left a few zero's off. 4,000,000 are ok.

Phew. But still not good enough for IUI.

Its IVF or Bust.

So now guess what we're doing.....waiting. Waiting for a letter to come and get us into the Leeds Centre for Reproductive Medicine (where I last saw cuppy) and start the process proper.
We went along there last week for a 'new patients' night. Where a couple of doctors and nurses take you through the whole process.

It started strangely though, with the doctor showing us pictures of a womb, and how the reproductive system works.....for normal people.

Hey? Am I back in 2G1 at Winton Boys School? Yes I know where the penis goes, Oh I didnt realise you had to ejaculate in the vagina, I thought all over the..... You get my drift. Quickly though the talk was onto the more meaty stuff. And it was very interesting.
For example, there are two types of IVF - normal IVF and ICSI
The normal IVF, they take the sperm, the harvest a few eggs, and put them together in a dish and hope for the best. This is after pumping the woman full of hormones so she produces more eggs than needed. (At this point Im thinking of Aliens with Sigourney Weaver).
The other type (ICSI) is the one I think we're having. This is a bit brutal. The same preparation happens to the woman, but after my sperm are handed in, they pick the Micheal Phelps of the crew, snap off his tail so he cant go anywhere, and inject him directly into the egg. Boom.
It all sounds very complicated, and the chances are not fantastic. Around 40-50% success rate at our age. So there is light at the end of this tunnel.

One thing struck me about the night. There are lots of people in the same position as us. We are not alone. The room was packed with couples, some looking dejected, others hopeful, but all with the same wish. To be parents.

And thats when all this hits you. For all the messing around, late appts, relationships with plastic cups, masturbating in god awful places, visiting doctors, stress, blood tests, will it be IUI or IVF, money....it comes down to the fact, that you want to be a parent.
You want to have a Son or Daughter. You want a family. And if you keep that in mind, all the other crap pales into insignificance.

More soon I hope.

D

Cuppy strikes back!!

It's been a couple of weeks since my first post, so I thought I better keep everyone updated with the goings on in the fertility process.

Before I do I want to thank everyone for reading, and big thanks for all your comments, all of them are much appreciated. I especially love the feedback Im getting from people who have been through, or are thinking of,  or going through the same process. If the blog helps in anyway, I'm really chuffed....I think it may have even inspired one person to take fertility testing.  Good luck if you are... If your just reading it for a bit of a laugh, thats ok ...but remember, this is my junk we're talking about.

On to how everything's going......

In a word.....slow. As slow as my sperm.

When we last spoke, I told you that the next day I was off to the Jizz clinic to deposit a sample, I even put the appt time on the blog like a nice chap. I thought it would be good to keep you all informed to what was happening.

What I didnt expect was text messages on the way to the clinic with the general theme of this...

'I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!'

'I'M THINKING ABOUT YOU...HOPE YOU'RE NOT THINKING ABOUT ME'

'GIVE CUPPY ONE FOR ME!'

All well and good, but it dawned on me as I drove like a maniac through Leeds to get to my appt....'Shit, I've got an audience for this....'  I would like to thank everyone who sent a text, it was appreciated, I did laugh, and I won't name you, for fear of retribution.

So lets get back to the appt. I had booked off some time at work (thanks boss) and had a 930 slot. I made it through the Leeds traffic, and arrived ...a little puffed out at the clinic bang on 930. Good for me I thought, In/out and back to work after lightening the load somewhat.
If only it was that simple......it was'nt.

After waiting for 15 minutes, I asked the receptionist lady (who had exceptionally bad body odour, not something that would 'put you in the mood') how long before my appt.

'About 20 minutes'

'Can I use the phone to call my boss and tell him?' I asked holding my nose and trying not to breathe. (I mean really....can people not smell themselves? Her colleagues must have smelt it, or are they now immune?) Anyhoo I digress....
I called my boss, told him of the situation, he understood...and off I went back to waiting.

About 10.05 I was called in.

The nurse lady sat me down, told me how good looking I was......and started to undress in the office.She had a fantastic body, toned and tanned.... Music was playing in the background a sort of Wacka Wacka Boom Boom sound.

'How about it big boy? Can I take your temprature.....?'

SORRY - that is for the version I'm writing for Penthouse magazine. Damn copy and paste.

Speaking of paste - the nurse gave me .......wait for it......Cuppy! And told me that I needed to go to The Room, give my sample and then wait on the chairs outside her office.

On leaving her office, I saw a couple of sheepish looking gents in the same predicament as me. We gave each other a knowing glance, a quick 'Alright?' No one really wants a conversation here....masturbation humour doesnt go down that well. It would be frowned upon to sit next to them and say...

'So......sperm going backwards are they?'

Its just not the done thing.

...... and off to The Room.
Now from my last post you will know that I have experience of these rooms before, but I must say this one was much better than Dewsbury hospital. I would give it a 7/10.

The first thing that caught my eye was this though....

It lead me to think.....what would you panic about?

'Help....Come quick .....I can't get wood!!'

or

'Help.... I've got wood....... I've come quick!'

Casting my glance around the room, it seemed the same sort of setup as everywhere else.Bed and chair with paper on, Antiseptic lotion, toilet, paper towels, adult material cupboard, frosted window.

Wait

Go back one.

Yes, this room had some....fnarr fnarr....

Just the words conjoured up all sorts of images.....but on opening the cupboard. A few dog eared copies of Juggs or whatever was all they had. And yes.....some pages were stuck together. I shit you not.

So....being under a bit of time constraints, (I needed to get back to work!) I performed some 'White Water Wristing' gave my sample and sat outside the nurses office.

I was half expecting her to say  'Wow that was quick'...but alas no. She just gave me the bill.

Yes, The Bill. As this pounding of the pudding cost me 95 quid.

So now......we wait. Because kind reader, our next appt couldn't be booked in until....... 5 weeks later. Until then we'll keep trying, and hoping, and I will be trying not to think of cuppy. Until the next time.

 But next time cuppy....make an effort, put on a nice bra and panties for christ sake.

So, you've never jizzed in a cup?

You haven't lived until you've had an affair, with a plastic cup.

And for the past few months, that's exactly what I've been doing. To be honest, its quite a good relationship, if a little one sided. The cup, or Cuppy as I've grown to known it, doesn't answer back. Cuppy is quiet all the time to be honest, never making a sound of disapproval even when I want to watch football.
But alas, Cuppy is a bit of a bore.

It's a plastic cup.

Why have I been so attached to Cuppy?

Well, my wife and I, (from now on called Lulu....that is her nickname, she is not the diminutive Scottish singer of 'Shout' and other boppy 60's tunes).... have been trying for a baby, a little Darren or Lulu for quite a while now. Lets say its been....over 4 yrs of trying. Not that I'm complaining about the trying. But at some point you have to ask.....

'Hmmm no little sprog yet......could there be a problem with you honey?'

Both of you think this....and both of you hope its the other one who has the problem. Not that this makes any difference to the final outcome....you still cant conceive.
So we made an appointment with our GP, who was completely useless. He did however send us off for some initial tests.  Lulu had to go for a scan at the hospital to check the 'oven' was correctly wired, and I was given a plastic cup.
And so the great love affair with 'Cuppy' was born. Oh how we laughed on that first date, we talked and talked for hours, about everything....we found we had so much in common.....Ahem.

Anyhoo, the first time I had to give a sample I was told to 'do the deed' at home and take the population paste into Dewsbury Hospital. This had to be done at a pre arranged time, as they need the sample quite quickly after you have...err...relieved yourself.
I have never knocked on out according to a timetable before. So that was a first, but all went well (I had been practising since my teens) and off I trotted to the hospital. I gave 'Cuppy' over to the Pathology dept at the allotted time, bid my farewells to my plastic lover and made a quick exit.

When I went to my GP for the results, a locum was in. A German woman who didn't really understand the sheet of paper with my sperm analysis on. So we tried to understand it together...well I read through it and understood that my motility was not great.

JARGON SPEAK!!!!!
For more information on Sperm Motility I hand you over to our friends at Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sperm_motility

But all in all, it wasn't too bad, nothing too worry about she said......Never trust a German Locum. My wife and I went back to our GP and......He said my wife had some problems with Cervical Ployps -JARGON SPEAK!!!!!  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cervical_polyp .....His thoughts were to send my wife for an operation to remove them, and so would aid our attempt to get pregnant.

Easy.

Nope.

After this appt, we were referred to a fertility specialist, as they would be the ones to have the final say on Lulu going to hospital. We went over to Wakefield's Pinderfield Hospital and met with the nice lady Doctor, who began to look through our notes.

'Polyps are not the problem'  was the first revelation we had. What the hell Dr Death had been looking at, or where he was taught beggars belief.

Then I heard the immortal words when she read the results of my semen analysis.

'Did you miss the cup?'

There is nothing that can prepare you for this. Of course I said no. Looked a little sheepish, and hoped for the best. My mind works in funny ways, and all I could think of was that scene from Max and Paddy with Peter Kay when Max says...
'You want to be careful, you only get a bucketful'
Could this be true? Has my bucket been filled?

She decided that I needed to go for another sample. But this time.......to give the sample at the Hospital.

Hello Cuppy.

Another appointment to crack one off was made with Dewsbury Hospital, with one added difference. This time I booked....The Room. I've heard about these places, but nothing can quite prepare you for it. I knew it wouldn't  be some den of inequity, but I wasn't expecting such a grey and sexless place. I can perform the deed in most places, but I would need all my mental strength here. Let me describe it. The Room is no bigger than a third bedroom in a standard 3 bed house, it has a sink. It has a settee, covered in paper. It has a seat, covered in paper. It is right by one of the main entrances to the hospital.

Yes. A MAIN ENTRANCE.

All the way through you can hear the door banging as people sneak outside for a quick one. Cigarette, of course. Oh there is also a cabinet, much like Alan Partridge's draw in the Linton Travel Tavern, whats in there is a mystery...its locked. I know, I half hoped there would be a copy of Razzle from my youth. No.

But me being the utter professional, I soldiered through. Took the sample back to the nurse, said a final farewell to Cuppy and was on my way once more.

In the meantime Lulu had been for all sorts of invasive tests, blood test etc, and we went back to the fertility specialist for the diagnosis.

Lulu is perfect. All parts in working order. But alas, I am not so lucky. My motility is still slow, and I'm not producing enough sperm. Although they look good apparently see this link on Morphology. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semen_analysis#Morphology

But, all in all, I'm in scientific terms, a bit of a jaffa.

We had two choices, go straight for IVF, which we get one shot (excuse the pun) on the NHS, or we could try IUI which we get 5 goes. But the Doctor wouldn't tell us which one to go for, she wanted to let the Leeds Centre for Reproductive medicine make the decision.

So guess what.

Me and Cuppy are seeing each other again tomorrow, for another clandestine meeting. This time in Leeds. I'm thinking of bringing out a book. 101 places to blow your beans. I think it's a sure fire winner.

So, good people reading this blog, I will be doing the one handed snake charming of the pant python around 9.20 on Wednesday 8th September 2010.  Think of me won;t you, I guarantee I won't be thinking of you, unless your name is Lulu, or Kylie, or Jennifer Aniston. Maybe Angelina Jolie if I'm in a tight spot.

D.