Second opinion - Will's take

Mo and I often work late or have things going on in the evenings, so sometimes we don't have a quality block of time to sit and discuss. This morning we were both leaving for work at the same time, so we were able to walk and chat and get some seriously good conversation while heading our respective ways to work. There is something about a brisk walk or (even better) a jog that helps me clear my mind.

I, like Mo, had a twinge of guilt about requesting our records. More so than Mo, once I select a doctor I tend to put my trust in them and not look back. As a physician, I try to check my professional life at the door and just be a "patient." In truth, however, I recommend to everyone that they get a second opinion. I am happy when patients have second opinions - for me it is an honor that they entrusted me in the first place. And besides, a second opinion is just that - an opinion. I would hope that other physicians my patients consult with have a similar overall read on things, but I also hope they will have their own views on the patients issues. Medicine is an art.

After speaking with the CCRM doctor, I reminded myself that what we initially sought was a different opinion - not a different truth or different set of facts. We also were not seeking someone to tell us that what we have been doing is perfect, don't change anything. The facts are the facts and no matter who we consult they will not be able to provide "truth."

In the end, we learned that we are on the right course, with some additional angles to consider. A few things he reminded us: We have been able to get pregnant, both with and without IVF. Mo also has responded well to the stims in the past and there is no reason she will not in the future.

On the downside we have gotten blasts, but not as many as one would hope. We have also had miscarriages secondary to genetic abnormalities. This is the kicker, the lynch pin. The theory presented to us is that given Mo's history of chemo, these aneuploidies are most likely iatrogenic. This theory makes sense and should be considered, but at the end of the day we will never know what toll the chemo took on her ovaries.

Even though both Mo and I know (and have known) this intellectually, it is different to have it uttered from an MD's lips. It somehow made this possibility seem like a fact. It validated our fears.

The offer of microarray and vitrification is extremely appealing. However, many things in medicine are initially promised as the next-best-thing-since-penicillin. Any new technology should be seriously considered, but also contemplated carefully. I am obviously aware of our lack of positive results so far, but we need to be thoughtful in making any changes. Thus far we have been happy at our clinic and with our doctor and that counts for a lot.

In the end, we will continue our research and continue to cogitate on our options.

As Mo said to me last night, nothing has really changed in reality; whatever state her ovaries are in remains the same now as it was before this conversation. What's changed is our awareness of the possibility options has expanded.

I hope everyone has a great weekend. Mo and I are headed to a comedy club tonight with friends for a little relief.

Will