Here I am walking around still swinging these drainage tubes around. If you're curious what they look like, Google "JP Drain," but I'm warning you, it's not pretty. The news about facing chemotherapy has me terrified and going without much sleep at night. The anxiety is mostly based on my ignorance surrounding chemotherapy. I really just don't know what to expect and everything I've heard about it or watched has shown horror stories. To combat these fears, I joined a few local support groups. Due to COVID-19, they are meeting virtually until it's safe to meet face-to-face again. Our first virtual meeting is tonight and I'm really excited to meet the women in this group. To protect their privacy, I won't give any information about the women in the group except to say they are all women that live in Virginia Beach and were diagnosed under 50 years of age. Before I meet them, I have a fertility appointment. I'll refer to this clinic as **** Fertility, but if you need to know the name of a good fertility clinic in the area, I'd be happy to share that information with you. 

I walk into **** Fertility and am temperature checked and ushered to the dirtiest waiting room I've ever sat in. The chairs are stained and ripped and the floor is dirty too. Phil was not allowed to come to this appointment with me due to COVID-19. My mask is making it hard to breathe because it is hot, but I'm trying to relax in the moment and watch Dirty Jobs on the waiting room TV. Phil drove to meet me after cleaning out his classroom. He is waiting in his truck in the parking garage.  Finally, I'm called back to meet with the doctor. She has her mask on, but keeps looking at her nails and picking at them with her other hand the entire time we talk. She gives me a long basic lesson on how IVF works, without asking me how familiar I am with the process. As a Biology Teacher, who has donated three cycles of eggs in the past, it is difficult to listen to her loop through this speech on repeat. She doesn't make eye contact with me and I have to interrupt her in order to have time to ask her the questions I came prepared to ask.

With her permission, I call Phil and put him on speaker so that he may ask questions as well. Our main concern is timing my egg retrieval cycle before I start chemotherapy. My appointment with my oncologist has still not been set up. Many patients have had their chemotherapy pushed back because of the social distancing and precautions required by COVID-19. The list of medications required for fertility treatments needs to be looked over by my oncologist to see if there would be any drug interactions between them and the chemotherapy. The fertility doctor keeps referring to my cycle and saying that I should already be on the fertility medications and that I should have a baseline ultrasound to check the follicles I already have this cycle. Otherwise, my options are to do a retrieval in the luteal phase of my cycle or wait another month. I'm not sure if I have another month to wait before starting chemotherapy and my ovaries have a high probability of being damaged from the treatment. 

Now I feel really warm, and my skin feels clammy from sweat. I agree to have an ultrasound and ask if Phil could please come into the clinic so we can all talk together. We don't know when my oncologist is going to recommend starting chemotherapy, and we know that our insurance doesn't cover fertility costs. I was referred to this doctor by my breast surgeon due to my breast cancer diagnosis, but this doctor does not seem to take the additional stress of my diagnosis into consideration. She pressures me again to take home some medication from the clinic to start today. "You may pay for the medication later, or replace it with the medication you receive if you qualify for the Livestrong Fertility charity," she suggests as she walks me to the ultrasound room. There are six follicles that measure as potential eggs to be retrieved. This gives me some hope, because that is the same number of follicles I had in my early twenties. 

I get dressed and meet Phil in a narrow hallway outside their financial department. Phil had exchanged some words with the doctor. "My wife will not be taking any medication until she meets and discusses how her cancer will be treated with her oncologist. I don't appreciate you having me wait in a hot parking garage while you pressure her to start fertility treatments without discussing the cost. I need my wife alive for myself and our son." The cost of treatment will depend on whether or not we qualify for the Livestrong Fertility charity program. The program provides people diagnosed with cancer (whose treatment will affect their fertility) the fertility medications they need at no cost to themselves. **** Fertility starts our Livestrong Fertility application for us online and the doctor says to contact her when I'm ready to begin fertility treatment. Phil and I walk out together, hours later, and I'm emotionally wrecked. We sit together in my car and try to make sense of all of the information we've received in the past week. We both want Philip to have a sibling. The time we spent growing up with our own siblings are some of our most cherished memories. Breast Cancer has taken a lot of control away from me, but taking control of our fertility options makes me feel like I could win this small battle. There are many things to look forward to in the future and if we are blessed to have another baby, that would be one of the best things. 

After dinner, I sign on to my first support group for women with breast cancer; Beyond Boobs! Virginia Beach, VA. Over the weekend, one of the group facilitators dropped a gift bag off on my door step. It had a lot of fun things inside: a mask, calming tea, a nail file, a couple BINGO cards, and mini M&Ms to use as BINGO markers. It is a really fun relaxing time to get to know them while playing BINGO and asking for some advice. Seeing women on the other side of treatment is empowering. Getting to know them and having them already understand that there are times when I just don't want to talk about cancer made my heart feel light. We are more than just our diagnoses and sometimes women just want to have fun! So happy this group of survivors is here to support me through this difficult time in my life.