Sunday, March 28, 2010

Surgery tomorrow

Repeat it with me: must not complain again about being tired, must not complain again about being tired.
Yes, that broken record is now smashed into tiny particles.

How about we focus on some positives - like the red letters adorning today.
Today, people, marks the last day of injections!!!!!! Happy days are here again!
I set my alarm to do the last one at 1am today. Thank the lord they have changed the type of syringe since T did it - and it is now not the massive horse needle that looked like an enormously thick skewer and just screamed "I am going to hurt you real bad" and is instead a quaint little old glass syringe with a needle exactly the same size as the Puregon one I've been taking for a fortnight.
It reminded me of something a tragically fascinating poet might use to shoot up in the back loo of Les Deux Magots in a Paris of the 1920s...complete with an absinthe chaser or something.

No absinthe required in this case. Quite frankly I may as well be permanently pissed...don't they say fatigue and drunkenness are basically the same? I put the cheese back in the freezer the other day and am just depressingly accepting of the fact now that whenever I click on Google I almost always completely forget what I am meant to be searching for in the nanoseconds it takes for the home page to come up.

I had to get T to get out of bed and stand with me as I did the 1am prick, in the glow of the oven light, activated for eerie effect and dim enough so it didn't completely blind my hitherto-slumbering eyes.
I don't know what the hell I thought she was going to do to help.
In fact all she did was stand there looking dazed before suddenly putting both hands up to her face and making an "aawwweeeuuuww" sound just as I stuck the needle in.
"Oh, baby," she said. "You don't know what that does to my stomach." (as in, it turns it...)
Um, WHAT IN THE SAM HILL DO YOU THINK IT'S DOING TO MY STOMACH??!! It's damn ouchy, it's making me grouchy, bloated, more moody than a schizophrenic and feeling like I'm on a rollercoaster through Strung Out City, alright??
Thanks for your support. Back to bed with you. Haha.

So, that was Ovidrel. It "stimulates late follicular maturation", a fancy way for saying it gets your eggs ready to be collected.
That's the go for tomorrow.
In the meantime I am fending off Jay, who insists on climbing over very specific areas of my anatomy that are suddenly quite fact I swear his heels and elbows have just had an in-built ovary AND breast-seeking device implanted. I have found I have been quite bloated in the lower abdomen - and fair enough too I guess.

I did in fact get quite an attack of the "hard done by" earlier...I was just contemplating how relatively easy it was for T and I to do all this without a little person in the house.
All the associated logistics, paraphernalia, water bottles, favourite toys, snacks, distractions, second favourite toys deliberately hidden from sight so they make full diversionary impact once sighted, tissues, balls, socks, hats, crucial pieces of leaf that JUST MUST COME IN THE CAR WITH US NOW etc - none of that, none of it, existed last time.

I am also so tired, did I mention that already? And that makes reasoning with a two year old pretty much impossible 99% of the time. My short fuse just got a whole lot shorter!
But look, in the scheme of things, I think I have fared pretty well so far. And the lack of sleep is undoubtedly a preparation for things to come.

**by the way, I have only just now worked out how to correct my time zone settings. FYI...for all previous! Or pretend you were in Alaska, which is where I think they were originally set.

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