Down Down Down

Another trip to the doctor. This time panic was starting to kick in at casa di Isenberg. My hcg level, while frighteningly high at 600 last week, shot up to 1500 this week. The doctor's office made me come in immediately.

Luckily, my husband's show isn't doing too great (if that can be seen as a "luckily") which meant he had some time on his hands and he could come with me. What a difference going to the doctor's is when you are not alone.

So, yesterday, we troop back up to Thousand Oaks for another ultrasound. The doctor - not my usual but just as lovely as my usual - took me into the theater with my Dr. Z hovering around.

He dimmed the lights and of course, nothing. Which is also a bad sign. Which could mean I have an eptopic pregnancy. Not good.

However, thanks to the drugs swimming around my system, killing anything inside me, the chances of anything nasty happening (like the eptopic rupturing) are almost impossible. Almost.

Plus, Dr. Nice #2 doesn't seem to think it even is an eptopic. They just put me on "eptopic watch" to be on the safe side. It made me feel like a panda at the zoo on mating watch...Will they do it? Won't they? Come on, slow-to-mate, China-dwelling bears, do it for us! We need more black-and-white fluffy animals in the world that exist on bamboo and look super cute.

So here I am, on eptopic watch. Chewing slowly on a piece of food, staring balefully at the computer and wishing everything would just go away.

GREAT P.S - whether it was or wasn't the great news is, the numbers fell to 1100. Going back on Monday to check it is continuing to drop - it better had be or I'm emigrating to China. Or the zoo.