Hello, it’s me again. I have no idea what happened last night. I had the draft of a post, I was tapping away at it, and I suddenly went all ‘oh, sod it’ and hit ‘publish’ in the middle of a train of thought, and stomped off to bed. As H so sweetly remarked, it’s probably caffeine withdrawal. So if you were wondering why I seemed even more random than usual in an abrupt sort of way, wonder no more.
So caffeine! Yes! I am trying to cut down slowly, as I’ve always been a bit of a caffeine fiend, aiming for one (1. Unum. One) cup of tea OR (not and. Or) coffee a day (and by cup I mean ‘cup’, not ‘bucket’). I am nearly there. I thought by cutting down slowly I’d avoid the MASSIVE CRASHING HEADACHES. And I have. I merely have a constant irritating headache. Which could be the Gonal-F. Or life.
And on to today’s adventures. H and I went to Riverside for the scan/bloodwork/chat with nurse thing that is to be happening ever-so-often for the next couple of weeks. Well, I was there for the scan and the needles and the chat, and H was there to enquire as to where in heck our bill has got to so we can actually pay it. He eventually hunted down someone in Accounts who assured us it was in the post. So that was all amazingly pointless and so much for trying to be Good And Responsible Citizens.
Meanwhile, ÜberScanningLady and I had a look at The Innards. Well, Cute Ute had grown some lining, so she was definitely In The Presence of Oestrogen, but where it was coming from was a complete bloody mystery as Satsuma was still utterly follicle-free (‘What? You were so pleased on Friday when I looked like this! What? WHAT?’). I then went off to get my blood taken (ow) but given the Absence of Follicle, the nurse who spoke to us said Dr George would probably want me to increase the Gonal-F to 225 units a night, and hold off starting the Cetrotide just yet. And we all gave Satsuma a long, sad, pointed look (‘WHAT?’). She then went off to talk to the doctors and yes, I am definitely increasing to 225 units of Gonal-F and they’ll call us if and only if I need to start Cetrotide, which I probably don’t. And I haven’t had a call.
I then went and spent about half an hour waiting in the pharmacy to get a bit more Gonal-F (thanks, Sats) and emergency just-in-case Cetrotide, and Prednisolone (which I am starting on Thursday), and this made me colossally late for work, and my boss was not pleased, and I think I displaced her displeasure onto the wilfulness of pharmacies, but, yes, that wasn’t in the least bit stressful, no sirree Bob.
Boss also made me stay on late to cover the missing hour, which was irritating as H and I actually had a date. Imagine my chagrin when I realised she too was staying on late to make sure we’d have a private time to talk through things to raise with HR (oh, for we are having a meeting with HR on How To Deal With Ladies Doing IVF, and I think I am rapidly becoming the test-case by which my Place of Work is creating policies on the hoof). Boss is squarely and enthusiastically on my side, and wants to make sure I get as much leave, sick-leave, and flexible working as humanly possible. It’s a little overwhelming. Doesn’t she realise that if this works, I’ll be abandoning her for a year?
By the way, 225 units of Gonal-F stings more than 150 units.
Oh, and clexane, because Sheila was asking – I start taking it at retrieval.
The track-pad on my lap-top is playing silly buggers. This is making posting a bit of an embuggerance. Time for a visit to Lap-Top Hospital, alas.