My OHSS Story - Part II

Welcome to all ICLWers!  If you are just stumbling upon my blog, you should know that I am currently pouring out my Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome (OHSS) story in separate posts.  We realized the other day that we had really been dealing with this since the beginning of August.  The first day I started feeling any side effects from the meds was July 31st, when I had to leave a restaurant early because the room was spinning and I was feeling faint and nauseous.  24 days later, we are still dealing with OHSS.  Here is my story, continued...

Within two days of the IUI, five days after the last Gonal-F shot, and four days after the Ovidrel Trigger shot I could barely walk.  The pain in my abdomen was so intense with movement, I simply lay as flat as I could, careful to support my back, which was also throbbing in pain.    Indeed, all the pain was putting so much pressure on my back and entire abdomen that bending at the waist in any degree became out of the question.  We had a wedding to attend that Saturday night and against my better judgement and my husband's worried discouragement, my stubborn streak took over and I became determined to make the event.  Just days earlier, I remembered how I was wondering if I would be able to dance after the IUI at this occasion--today the idea of even trying to move my hips at all was laughable.  So we went.  The wedding was a small affair over an hour away.  Already in so much pain, I took pillows to sit on and support my back in the car.  But still, every bump, no matter how small, sent terrible pain riveting through my body. Later, we would wonder why in the world we had ever attempted to make the trek to this wedding with me in such a fragile state.  As we reflected on this lapse in judgement, hubs, who had fought to keep me home resting would recall, "At one point, I walked be the room and saw you all dressed up sitting in a chair doing your make-up.  I knew you were sitting because you couldn't stand from the pain, but at that point, I just had to give up."  Yes, I was determined.  And most know that they are not going to win when I am determined!

So we went on what is sure to be the most painful journey of my life and proceeded to sit the entire night.  While it felt good to be there supporting my friend, I felt so ridiculous as the mingling cocktail hour of everyone standing, walking, drinking was experienced by me from a chair.  I just could not stand.  To most, I made a lame excuse of throwing out my back, though a select few knew the real story.  At one point, when a large circle was gathered talking, the husband of a good friend I had confided in asked loudly, "So, how long did they say the pain would last?"  I laughed and shook my head for a minute before shrugging my shoulders, saying I wasn't sure.  "Really?"  he continued.  "They didn't give you a time frame?"  Really?  Way to totally blow my cover!  But still, I just laughed.  At one point, as only I could do, I embarrassingly knocked over not one, but two, full glasses of water--absolutely soaking myself and the floor.  And yet, I couldn't bend, I couldn't move.  All I could do was sit there while others ran to clean the mess at my feet.  I felt beyond ridiculous.  We left promptly after dinner. The walk to the car was terrible--crossing over cobblestone bricks is obviously not a sensitive ovaries' idea of fun--and they boldly let me know it, all the way home.

By Sunday morning, I was in such pain I was ready to go to the hospital immediately.  Though I obviously haven't experienced them, I remember saying that I can only imagine that this is what labor contractions feel like--surely no worse.  I was screaming in pain, having to hold on as waves of intense pain shot through my body.  Surprisingly, I even had to breathe through the worst of them.  Urinating had become increasingly agonizing itself.  Though it had actually been uncomfortable for days, now it seemed as though the act rearranged everything in my stomach in such a violent way it was all I could do to hold on.  I called the on-call physician at my clinic who promptly prescribed Vicodin and encouraged me to come into the clinic Monday morning.  Scared that the pill would send me into a vomiting spiral after a similar experience when having my wisdom teeth removed, I actually did not take any, but continued with Extra Strength Tylenol which provided next to no relief.

Monday morning I woke up to use the bathroom and immediately began feeling light headed and began dry heaving.  I was sweating and burning to the touch.  Then, I went to the clinic.  Hubs and I sat across from my fertility nurse hand in hand.  By this time, I could really barely walk.  Instead, I was hunched over moving with the tiniest steps at the speed of a snail.  At some points during our discussion, I had to close my eyes and wince in pain.  She would ask if I was ok and then resume the conversation of how this is all normal.  I told her I couldn't walk-she saw.  I told her urinating was unbearable as my insides rearranged themselves.  I told her I was swollen beyond belief and hard to the touch, starting all the way up at my ribs.  She said it was normal.  She prescribed Tylenol with Codeine for the pain and gatorade to ensure my electrolytes were balanced.  "We could do an ultrasound," she said with a shrug, "but we already know what we'll see.  You are hyperstimulated."  With the way she framed it, as a waste of time, really, we did not insist.  Clearly, we had never been through this and were looking to her for the proper  medical care and protocol in this situation.  They checked my hemoglobin, which tested fine and sent me on my way.

I immediately began popping the Tylenol with Codeine and to my delight, they provided some slight relief.  Yet, by Tuesday night, I noticed that my early afternoon urine had been a bright orange and I hadn't relieved myself since.  Worried of what this might mean in terms of dehydration and organ functions, I again called the on-call physician who encouraged me to wait until tomorrow to see if my symptoms worsened and just monitor it.  I hung up and sighed--resigned myself to the idea that this was really all normal...After all, I had now tried to reach out for help three times and every time I was told, "This is normal."

Not so fast...