1 – My Dad called last night to tell us he’d had a heart-attack. At which point I nearly had a heart-attack. On the plus side, he was well enough to talk on the phone. On the minus side, a sodding heart-attack. ‘Oh, I’m fine,’ he kept saying, ‘I just need a stent.’ OK, you daft old bugger, a) you are not fine, and b) you also need to stop smoking and drinking and start eating, you know, green things other than Chartreuse. Because this is your second heart-attack and you can’t just have one of these a year to screw with your children’s plans, as if it were a middle-aged habit, like buying fast cars and getting entangled with fast women. Anyway. H and I have surgically attached our telephonic devices to our persons. Also, this is not a good time for me to rush off to the other end of the country. I’m in the middle of an IVF cycle, damn it.
2 – Speaking of which, Satsuma is in deep disgrace, because at today’s scan, she still had absolutely no follicles over 10mm. About 15 or so had grown enough to be ‘worth counting’, according to ÜberScanningLady, so there are 15 potential contenders (the rest of the 29 were still minute), but not one was over 10mm. Gonal-F increased to 300 units a night. Dearest Satsuma, this kind of insubordinate slackness is not only emotionally wearing, but it’s also fucking expensive. Get on with it. You have been warned.
Edited to add – Just had a call from the Riverside Clinic. Increase Gonal-F to 375 units an evening. SATSUMAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.