Monday, after our initial IVF appointment, I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up the injectible meds and drugs that would get me through the first six days of my IVF cycle. You read that right — just the first SIX DAYS.
Grand total: $1,081.68. Holy. Expensive. Drugs. So what does that amount of money buy you? This pile o’ fun:
There are 4 different injectable drugs here. I asked the nurse what the difference was between the Follistim and the Repronex. “You’ll need to read the package. I don’t know,” she told me. I feel so very reassured.
The Follistim is new — it makes you hatch a ton of eggs at once, as opposed to the one egg that a woman normally hatches monthly. I’ll have to give it to myself, in the belly. The first time I had to do a subcutaneous injection myself, I almost passed out. Me, sticking a needle… into… ME. Not happening. But I had to do it to get knocked up, so I closed my eyes and got it over with quickly. Like sex! Tee hee… just kidding.
Repronex is another stimulant that makes you hyperovulate, and that’s a big ol’ stinger in the booty, which requires an Official Shot-Giver (my husband, or in a pinch, my friend Megan the Love Muffin, or my amazing neighbor who’s offered to learn how to give the shots when my husband is traveling).
There are a few other drugs in the pile, but I don’t know what they’re for. The nurses will tell me when to shoot up. I just follow directions. Good little patient. (*pats self on head*)
One vial alone was $700. I have a hard time believing the drug company isn’t making an absurd profit from desperate baby-crazy women, but hey — supply and demand.
I’m lucky to have amazing infertility coverage. In fact, I came home that same day to a check from Blue Cross for the drugs I just picked up (an insurance company, ahead of the curve? NEVER HAPPENS). I wonder how the hell people do this that have to pay on their own. Do they pre-sell their firstborn child?
Luckily, my benefits rule. In exchange for them, me and my public-sector brethren get 1% pay raises that don’t keep up with the cost of living and our emails can be handed over to the media at any time. It’s a trade-off. 🙂
I think everyone knows that we’re about to take a stab at this IVF thing, because it’s been surprisingly silent on the “You know what you should do — you should try [insert stupid suggestion here]!” front.
That’s why I haven’t posted in a while — nobody’s given me any fodder. Maybe they’re onto me and they know about my blog!
A friend told me she has shared my blog with several patients at the infertility clinic where she works (which happens to be the one I go to), and the staff reads it too. So here’s a shout-out to the gals who check my ovaries, and especially to the ones who remember who I am when I come in. The docs forget who I am 20 minutes after they meet with me. You ladies who remember me RULE.
Okay, people. Throw some insulting, insensitive comments my way soon, so I’ll have something to talk about besides how many times per day I’m shooting up.
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