I have three sets of reproductive doctors: Dr. Kwak-Kim and her Nurse Practitioners, My Reproductive Endocrinologist – or I should just say, his nurses, since I’ve only gotten to actually speak to him once in 9 months, and my perinatologist who is on-call, ready to go when this extremely high-risk uterus of mine lands a baby. That’s right, for those following along, I’m still un-knocked up. Damn you, you smugly right pee sticks.
All three doctors offices are supposedly working together to impregnate the great medical mystery that is me. But as I’ve come to find out “working together” means they occasionally allow me to make mention of the other doctors and their recommendations without balking.
So it means I’ve taken another job. No, don’t be confused, I still have my regular 8-5 job. But this other job, well it’s more demanding with the not-so-guaranteed possibility of someday being rewarding.
I am now Chief Project Manager of Reproduction.
What exactly does Chief Project Manager of Reproduction do? It’s a medical position. But the fact that I have absolutely no medical experience is of no concern to anyone involved. Key responsibilities include communicating and interpreting lab results, medical prognoses and cycle recommendations between doctors, nurses, schedulers, insurance companies, pharmacists, lab technicians and one acupuncturist.
Side responsibilities include arguing with that guy at the specialty pharmacy who was supposed to ship IVIG medicine before the day it was needed, coordinating scheduling with a home health nurse for bi-weekly infusions, and being able to name the exact size of IV catheter, tubing and equipment needed at my home at any given time.
Despite its many duties, this role does have some major perks. One of them being sex. Lots of sex. Assuming, of course, that there’s a blinking smiley face showing on a stick I just peed on.
And, of course, there’s the valuable experience I am gaining. A year ago, I never would’ve been able to spout off recommended cytokine ratios or which type of tube blood needs to be collected in order to test them. Now, I could teach a course. And I practically do every time I go to the lab to get my blood drawn. Plus I’m getting really good at accurately describing the color and consistency of my period blood to a nurse without blushing.
Of course, for the role of Chief Project Manager of Reproduction, there is no pay. But I figure if I put in enough time here, someday there’ll be the possibility of a promotion to Chief Project Manager of Gestation. And from what I hear, after nine months, that one has a pretty sweet payout.