Posts Tagged ‘injections’

…in fact, it’s not all that exciting anymore.  No, that’s not true.  I’m getting the jitters when it’s almost time to do it, just because it’s fun to be doing SOMETHING active instead of sitting around and moping that I’m alone and childless.  But this sub-q injection thing?  Easy-peasy.  Even at four a day.  My mother thinks I’m some kind of long-suffering heroine.  That’s not it, though.  I’m just desperate, next mother’s day, to have something to celebrate besides my own, wonderful mother.  

So my first four-shot day is over, and the boyfriend is on the other side of the country at a writing workshop.  I’m missing him rather a lot.  It was totally my decision to go ahead with IVF this month, even knowing he’d be away for a good bit of it.  I don’t regret that, and I certainly wouldn’t have wanted him to give up going to this.  But I miss him.  I’d rather he was here; even though he doesn’t like to watch or even think about what I’m doing in the bathroom morning and night, it’s still good to know he’s up for dispensing a bit of sympathy if I need it.  

Walked around a lot today, in search of Galapagos clothing.  My leg really seems to have recovered almost entirely, which is amazing to me.  This time last week I was in serious pain when I tried to walk on it, it just wouldn’t respond but seized up.  I was honestly certain I’d be hobbling for weeks at least.  But it’s better.  My body is my own again, and I’m having a hard time remembering to be gentle to it.  No jogging across the street.  No super-shaking stretches as I lie in bed in the morning.  (which I miss).  But it was good to be reminded that no matter how much I occaisionally feel that my body has betrayed me, it’s still a pretty amazing little animal I live within.  

And, optimist that I am, I ordered a swim suit online.  Of course, I spent far more on the cover-up than I will on the suit, but that’s only right since I fully intend to cover up my bruised, lumpy IVF body when I’m around anyone who isn’t Sam.   Unless of course I’m boogie boarding.  Which I suppose is a game that’s probably not happening this summer.  If I catch this egg.

Tried to eat a focaccia at a Williamsburg bakery, but it was nasty and dry – I threw it out.  Got out of Macy’s at about 4 & tried a pretzel, which was stale – threw it out.  Got home, ate chicken pot pie and brownies.  The more brownies.  Argh.  Brownies are my nemesis.  Or at least the nemesis of my diet.  Same thing, sort of.  

Injection site bled today, and the lupron spot I picked hurt more than it has before.  I did, however, use the mixing-tips that the pharm. company included, to good effect.  I’ll certainly do that tomorrow as well to simplify the 6-amp brazelle mixing protocol that took well over 10 minutes this morning.  I’m going to have to get up earlier in the morning for this on work days, though, since I’m working late tomorrow and Thursday, and going in at 10 on Tuesday and Wednesday, it’s not as dire as I’m making it sound.

And I called my mother and got to talk to my grandma, and my Aunt Mary, who apparently know all about what I’m going through.  I knew when I told my mom that she’d immediately tell her family, but I didn’t realize she’d tell them so quickly.  But my aunt was remarkably kind, nearly brought me to tears.  Grandma sounded a little confused, but also offered her best wishes and prayers.  Hell, I’m even accepting prayers from the crazy dude at work who claims to have a direct line to god’s ear at 9:30 each night.  “Watch for something good to happen to you, health-wise,” he says.  “You’re a good person, my friend.  A good worker.  God wants you to be happy.”  

From his crazy-talkin’ mouth to G-d’s ear, I guess.  

Off to watch Buffy. 

Here’s hoping for a more celebratory Mother’s Day next year.

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Did it.

And it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought.  Three cheers for insulin needles, eh?  

Seriously, it slipped right in, & I honestly didn’t even feel it.  The Lupron was noticeable going in, but I wouldn’t even say it was painful.  I can still sort of feel it, but again, it’s not painful, just present.  

Waiting to hear back from the RE regarding the pharmacy’s switcharoo on FSH meds.  Sort of hoping I don’t have to go back to Manhattan today, but would rather that, if it’s a better medicine.  

Wondering if I should take the obligatory photo of my medicine cupboard (which used to be a linen closet) so that if this works, I will have proof for the sprog, when it’s being a little monster, that I really really wanted it to be here and so it should stop acting like a little shit right now. 

Nah.  A bit passive-aggressive even for me.  

Is it completely stupid to admit that I could hardly sleep last night over anticipation over finally starting this?  Seriously.  I hardly slept a wink.

Only 10 hours to go until my next dose!  Um, woohoo?

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 … well, almost.

Tomorrow is the day of needles.  

Today was the day of the very kind tech actually grunting in frustration as she rooted around in my arm trying to find a vein that would dispense a bit of blood for her instead of sucking it back into my arm.  (“My blood.  Mine! And you can’t have it!”)  

Today was the day of my second vaginal ultrasound & my first ever ultrasound during day 2 of my cycle.  (That’s code for “what a fucking mess that was.  Looked like someone impaled a pig on that wand-thingy.”)  

Today was the day that my first varicose vein was diagnosed.  On my uterus.  No, really.  “So your periods must be really painful, yes?” my RE asks.   “No,” says I.  “That’s odd, he said, “because look here at these varioceles on your uterus!”  It looked like wee little doppler fireworks going off in heavy overcast to me but I nodded obediantly because I didn’t want him to, you know, think that I’ve never read a sonograph before.  Varicose veins on my ueterus, who’d’ve thought?  I wonder if they make compression socks for that.  Guess I’ll have to spend less time on my, er, uterus.  I mean, what would cause that?  Crazy sex?  Too much sitting on my ass?  Really.

Today was also the day of my first whopping pharmacy bill.  (Baby aspirin, RxPrenatal Vitamin, Prednisone,  Doxycycline, Lupron, Bravelle, Menopur, Novarel, Progesterone in oil, Prometrium, syringes, needles [fuck of a lot of needles if you ask me], sharps container, alcohol swabs.)  Not so whopping as I had feared, thanks to a union that has finally earned its dues.  But still whopping enough to take a significant chunk out of my paycheck.  Not  to mention, enough to give me arm-strain.  We’re talking two plastic shopping bags full.  As is my wont,  I was glaring at people who wheeled bikes & strollers into a way-crowded subway car.  Until I realized that my packages and I were actually taking up more room.

Today was the day I realized they gave me the (Repronex) old, not so pure form of the (Menopur) FSH. my Dr. prescribed, so if I have irritation at the injection site, it’s all their fault.  That’s my story & I”m sticking with it.

Today was the day I hid a bottle of Lupron behind the nasty old broccoli so none of my boyfriend’s children would find it.

Today I watched videos of strange women injecting themselves with drugs on pharm. shill websites.  

Today I spent 4 hours on the subway.  

Today I ate Thai food.

Today my boss brought me a nifty coin purse from Turkey.

Tonight, my boyfriend’s home.  

And tomorrow is when I start giving myself injections.  Woo-fucking-hoo.  Finally.   First appointment in one week.  I’ll keep you posted.

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