I have no idea if blogspot tells you what time I'm writing these things, but it is currently 12:40am in Denver. In 20 minutes I'm supposed to give myself a huge shot in the bum that will trigger ovulation exactly 36 hours later. That would be 1pm on Friday afternoon. Luckily, at Noon on Friday I will be falling deep asleep under the watchful eye of an anesthetist, while the doctor harvests my eggs.
This is a very precisely timed operation, and it seems I got the raw end of the deal. They usually start the egg retrievals early in the morning, meaning most people give themselves this shot at a normal time, like 9pm or 10pm. But if they have a lot to do in one day, then they continue scheduling until they are all done. The nurse initially thought I would be ready for retrieval on Saturday or Sunday. But all of a sudden in the last two days my eggs started growing a lot faster. And it's also possible that my body decided to trigger ovulation on its own and their hand is now forced. I'm not sure which it is, but I have the instructions to go ahead. And I've unfortunately drawn the short straw and have the latest egg retrieval appointment. Hence, the 1am shot.
Honestly though, I'm glad this is finally happening now. This morning I was really going down hill with respect to mood and patience. I've been doing ok so far, but for the past few nights I've been getting more dizzy and nauseus at night. So I don't think I've been sleeping so well. And this morning I awoke to a phone call saying my morning monitoring appointment would have to be moved to another office much further away because the ultrasound tech at my normal office called in sick. This was quite an inconvenience in an already busy day, but what choice did I have? Next I picked up my latest shipment of world's most expensive medication, only to find they sent me double the amount that I ordered. And they charged me for it! I promptly called their helpdesk, but the woman said a Patient Services Representative would have to sort it out and call me later. She made it sound like the problem was mine, not theirs. I was sooo furious. And at that point, I totally lost it. I was crying, sobbing, completely breaking down. Not on the phone of course, just in the car with Dane. I said how much I hate all of this and I can't wait until it's done. I said I would never, ever, ever go through this again. And I thought, but didn't say, that having kids was probably not worth all of this bullshit.
We came home and I decided the best thing was to lay down for a bit. Two hours later I woke feeling much better. The medication shipment mistake has not quite been resolved despite my calling again, but at least the second customer representative was more friendly and apologetic for the mistake. In any case, the situation certainly did not warrant such drama. I was even aware of that at the time. But I felt completely at the mercy of my emotional surge. So it's better that their going to finally get these estrogen making buggers out, and I can hopefully go back to dealing with this incredibly stressful situation like a normal person instead of like a crazy possessed person.
oop, it's 12:58. Gotta go.
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