Call Me Les Mis

Well my hopeful mood has certainly shifted since yesterday. I feel crummy.

The doctor this morning was fine. My u/s looked good - no cysts - and the doc said to start the menopur tonight to stimulate the ovaries. The nurse showed Hubs how to do it (it's much more complicated than previous injections I've had), and sent us off with instructions to take the meds between 6 pm and 10 pm tonight and the next two nights at the same time, and then come back on Friday morning.

At about 5:40 tonight, doc called while I was in the shower (of course) and left a message that my estrogen was 28 and FSH was 18. Damn. Not a good sign. But he said go ahead and start the medicine anyway. The FSH is high but still lower than some previous cycles. They'll see me Friday to see how I responded. So I went to prepare the menopur for injections and realized - the instructions the resident wrote out for me (with the dosage and what not) was for the wrong. effing. drug.  They were for some other drug I never heard of. That I don't have.

So right off the heels of learning that my FSH levels aren't ideal, I learn that there's a screw-up with my meds.  I obviously fall into a panic. I called Hubs three times to get his opinion and he didn't answer. He was on his way home to give me the shots before we were getting picked up by some family members to go to dinner then see Les Miserables tonight, so our plan of quickly administering the meds before we got picked up was not going to work since I had to figure out this misinformation.

I called the Doctor's Office and pressed "one for emergency" to get through to an on-call doctor. A receptionist lady took my info and my problem and said I'd hear back from the on-call doctor "momentarily." That was five hours ago. No call.

Hubs and I took the meds with us to the Mexican restaurant for dinner and finally decided right before having to run to the play to go ahead and take them. In the bathroom at the Mexican restaurant. Not exactly pristine conditions. Agh, I just felt SO FLUSTERED. My uncles and parents were waiting for us outside the bathroom so we could make it to the play on time, and Menopur requires lots of mixing saline with powder tablets and collecting the solutions and putting it into more powder, so we were really rushed and irritated that we hadn't heard back and worried that we were taking the wrong dosage because the stupid resident wrote down the wrong drug!

Les Miserables is a three hour play (or at least, it was tonight), so we didn't get home until 11:30 pm.  So it's good we did the meds earlier instead of waiting til we got home. If they're the right meds. But I hate that feeling of being so panicked and rushed!

What makes matters worse is that I'm already starting to feel hot "flushes" from the meds. They aren't powerful yet, but I think they'll get progressively stronger. And the RE doesn't want me to take my estrogen while I'm doing the meds, which I've come to be pretty reliant on for keeping my brain working.

And to top it off, the doc says that I probably won't be able to run my marathon.

Fuck.

This is my prediction: I won't run my marathon, per instructions of the doctor. Also: I won't get pregnant. Infertility wins again, sucking the life out of me one piece at a time.