February 2011


I had my appointment at the fertility doctor’s to start my shots this morning. I thought I’d receive a little box of shipped syringes and random meds, but instead, the nurse brought in two sizeable giftbag-sized paper bags packed with stuff. They’re also keeping some syringe cartridges in their fridge for me at the clinic because I won’t need that particular medication yet. I guess I now know what $1926.45 of medication at a specialty pharmacy buys me. I have spare syringes galore, alcohol swipes, a plastic syringe disposal box, estrogen patches, containers of pills, multiple types of injectible fluids. (They also surprised me with an ultrasound when I got in; they counted 4 follicles [eggs] in one ovary and 7 in the other…where did the other 5 go that they had counted at the beginning of the cycle?)

In the nurse’s office, she told me about the first round of meds: one injection of Lupron each morning for 10 days. The syringe is TINY. The needle is thin (altho not as hair-thin as in my ideal fantasy scenario, albeit if I were fantasizing, I’d just be magically pregnant FOR FREE without having to go thru any of this) and only a half-inch long. The nurse went through a scenario of how to set up the shot, draw a small dose of medication up to the “10” line in the syringe, get rid of any air bubbles, how to pinch the fatty part of my lower abdomen (I have plenty to pinch), clean a selected area an inch away from my belly button with an alcohol pad, and how to inject and remove the syringe afterwards. The process was simple enough. She had me practice drawing with a demonstrative syringe and a little medication bottle of water. I asked if I could do my first injection there, as I wanted to be in a doctor’s office in case I have questions or screw up my first time. She said sure, and I had a little dance with a stubborn air bubble in the syringe on my draw, but she said it’s okay because the shot is going subcutaneously so air isn’t a big deal as long as it doesn’t keep me from getting the right dosage of meds. I swabbed my abdomen fat, pinched the area, placed the needle where I wanted it, she said the spot was fine, and then saying, “Ew,” with my hands shaking, I went straight in, semi-gently. Actually I don’t know how fast I did it cuz I have no memory of watching it go in. I think I looked away and just pushed the needle. In total shock, I said, “I didn’t feel anything! I have, like, no nerve cells there!” I pushed the plunger, removed the needle (THAT all felt surreal), looked at the spot the needle came out of, and there was not a THING that gave away what I had just done. No mark, no fluid, no sensation. WOW. “It hurts more when I pull an eyebrow hair!” I said incredulously. I am SO RELIEVED. I can do this every morning, sure, no problem! I’m still wiggy about the intramuscular shots, though, but she won’t tell me about those yet to not overwhelm me. That’ll come later.

At my parents’ house, when the wind meets these flowers, we have a snowfall. Ahhh, Mommy Nature, you didn’t forget California.

I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do.” – award-winning Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami
I dream, too. Don’t let them convince you it’s “abnormal,” or that you do it too much. Then bring your dreams to fruition. Happy New Year of the Hare. I look forward to all the coming little bunnies.

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