Item – My fertility chart thinks I might have ovulated on Monday.
Item – I don’t.
Item – I have now called Miss Consultant, or, rather, Miss Consultant’s Secretary, four times to ask what the buggery hey is going on with this cycle and what should I be doing about it. Provera? Wait until I see her on the 25th? And if I do bleed, all by myself or not, should I try another round of Clomid? Or, as I said, wait? What? Secretary has taken notes and promised to put them and my files on Miss Consultant’s desk and ask Miss Consultant to call me, or at least give Secretary a message to pass on to me. And Miss Consultant and her Secretary have called me back with advice and recommendations exactly no (nada, none) times.
Item – Dear Internets, what do I do now?
Item – And I’ll tell you why it’s urgent. I’m spotting. I feel a little crampy. The Cute Ute appears to have had quite enough of all this shilly-shallying and may be preparing to jettison lining. Which is why I don’t really think I ovulated on Monday. So, I suppose, I might need to know about Clomid Take 5 in the next, oh, 24 to 36 hours?
Item – I hope Miss Consultant feels guilty about me all weekend. I really do.