How can people in this industry not understand the emotional toll that their work (or in this case, the lack thereof) takes on us? Isn't it reasonable to expect people handling bloodwork to know that they're some kind of urgency to it no matter what it's being tested for? If there are potentially irregular levels of ANYTHING floating around in a person's blood, THEY WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT LIKE NOW.
I go into my trusty Quest Diagnostics this morning, where I have been on many mornings in the last couple of months. The lab tech is late, as always so I pace outside, thinking, why am I even here? The blinding white on my hpt has told the tale. Finally she shows up at 8:15, jabs me in the arm like old times, and tells me that since my RE said "stat" the results will be ready in 4 hours. So now it's 2:30 and my RE's office just called to ask if I went in for the test. Um...YES. They then called the lab and apparently there's no record of my motherfucking blood anywhere. The nurse just said, "Keep taking the meds you're on and we'll let you know as soon as we hear something." As if I might not hear anything until tomorrow.
Sweet jesus, I don't think I can wait another day for this. The practical side of me is ready for it to just be over so we can start making plans for the next cycle. The impractical, stupid, can't-let-it-go-asshole, Tinkerbell, Pollyanna side of me went to IVFConnections and saw that 12% of people in their unbelievably informal and unscientific poll had negative hpt's 11dp3dt and went on to have BFPs. So now I've let that beotch Hope creep back in.
I've got to know something by tonight because I'm meeting a friend for dinner and would either like to bask quietly in my pg-ness, or get stinking fucking drunk. At this rate it looks like I'll be stewing miserably over a Pellegrino.