Tag Archives: drugs

The Girl on the Train: not appropriate reading material for a girl named Rachel going through IVF, FYI

Remember when I was all pumped about my sweet three day reprieve between the ultrasound I had last Wednesday and the one the following Saturday? Right. Well, thank goodness my mom is here, because we made the same trip, even earlier, again on Sunday morning. And I’m headed back down again tomorrow.

Thank goodness my mom is here — the company was so very welcome in the car.

me and mom selfie

My mumsy dearest and I both super dig reading and thought that nice book on tape might be a good way to pass the time in the car. We spent some time on Audible and went with The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins on account of everyone in the world has been raving about it. Seemed like a real good choice.


The main character in the book is named Rachel. Like me. She wanted to have a family. Like me. So she and her husband did IVF. Like me.

And the IVF fails and she can’t get pregnant and goes into a deep depression, becomes a raging alcoholic, destroys her marriage, loses her job, and spends her time desperately seeking a way back into her ex’s life all the while being talked about as “poor… sad… fat… Rachel.”


Poor choice.

Three trips down and back and we’re just about done though. Thank goodness. A bit situtationally inappropriate.


But back to the issue at hand: an update on this Rachel’s IVF.

On Saturday, Dr. Stanic did my ultrasound and he started by asking how I was doing and quoting Winston Churchill — something about how he could promise only pain and suffering. Groovy. But my follicles are follicling and that’s cool.

The mood lighting helps quite a bit. They always keep the lights down low.
The mood lighting helps quite a bit. They always keep the lights down low.

Today (Sunday), we went back. Another ultrasound and some more blood work… New day, same story. Follicles follicling and estradiol increasing and we’re getting closer to the trigger shot.

So close to the trigger shot, that today, I got my target:

trigger shot target

Sharpie. On my backside. X does NOT mark the spot — just a location finder. Needle goes in the circle. Time for Seth to take the reigns! Like being hazed by the world’s meanest sorority.


Unfortunately, no trigger shot quite yet — hopefully tomorrow. I’ve got to be back in Madison for an ultrasound at 8:30 am tomorrow (a whole hour and a half later than today! sweet sweet sleep!!!) and more blood work and hopefully when they call in the afternoon, they’ll schedule my trigger for Monday night and my surgery for Wednesday morning, 36 hours later.

So, other than progress, how’s it going? Well… my abdomen hurts for a thousand and one reasons. I’m kind of miserable. And sooooo so tired.

Tiiiiiired. Also broken out. These drugs.

My mommy dearest leaves tomorrow, but I’m glad she was here while she was and Seth and Curls are back home to keep me company. Also, everyone seems to really understand how important dresses (minimal touching of the tummy) and ice cream (so delicious) are to me right now, so that’s lovely. Last but not least, we watched The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and then The SECOND Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and Joe Dirt, so I’ve been all kinds of cinematically inspired. Almost there… almost there.

Yzma! Put your hands in the air!

Well, I can cross “be an injectable drug user” off my list of things  I’d maybe like to try someday. I’ll stick with pills it it ever comes to that, thank you very much. It might be a bit more expensive that way, but certainly more sanitary and most definitely worth it to avoid becoming the bruised up pin cushion I’ve become. And without the stellar psychotropic effects, even. All the lows, lots of the crazy, none of the highs. This is bull.

to try

But it’s for a maybe baby, I tell myself. And right. That’ssssss good. The thing I’m hoping for. So.

Moving right along. Just keep swimming. Keep on keepin’ on.

The Muppets. Dori. Joe Dirt. The movies are full of such wise people, no?


The mood swings really are bizarre. Mostly I’m tired and bloated and blah. Although on Tuesday, after my mom showed up, I was positively buoyant. That’s when we talked about being fat and how it was cool. Except that two days later, on Thursday morning, I put on a dress to wear to work and just about lost it about the way my big-fat-stupid-ugly tummy looked in it. Took it off. (Hypocrite.) Put on some pants instead and went off to work.

Also a shirt. I wore a shirt to work too.

On Wednesday, I got up at 4:00 am and headed to Madison for an ultrasound and blood work. I had 4 large-ish follicles and 3 more on their way — that’s 7 eggs so far, woot woot! When the results of the blood work came back later in the afternoon, Generations called to tell me that my hormones were right on the money and so I was granted not just a two day reprieve (which is really the best you can hope for) but THREE. Three days until I have to return to Madison on Saturday. Oh sweet mother of all that is good. I cannot tell you what a relief that was. So to Madison and back before 10 am on Wednesday and then I headed to work. Where I struggled mightily to keep my eyes open for about 6 hours before I headed home and basically passed out on the bed for another two. Thankfully (also not), my mom woke me up at 7:00 pm to make sure I didn’t miss my evening injections and I grudgingly poked myself three more times before getting back on the up-and-down rollercoaster of emotion that is my mind.

My mom and I went to dinner (yay!) but I was disappointed by what I ordered (boo!) so we went and got ice cream (yessssss!) but the a-holes didn’t have any of the chocolate lactose-free ice cream (rage!) but I did find some chocolate-flavored coconut ice cream (ok…) and a gluten free baking mag that looked kind of awesome (alright, alright…) and we made it home without a meltdown where I had to work some more (ugh ugh ugh) but I did it while watching Frozen and my mom tolerated me singing along the whole time (let it goooooo!) and then back to bed before another day, another round of injections, and another 24 hours of Cray Cray McBray Bray.

Surprise! My belly button is pierced :)
Surprise! My belly button is pierced 🙂

With the exception of Cedar Point’s Iron Dragon, I’ve really never liked roller coasters.

Granted, most roller coasters don’t give every third rider a baby at the end, so…


This one might, so as Kronk would say:

Yzma! Put your hands in the air!!

{Source -- and kind of an awesome article about what Disney villains can teach us!}
{Source — and kind of an awesome article about what Disney villains can teach us!}


So how’m I doing? Yzma’s face. Hanging on.

Yzma’s face exactly.

Thanks for being my Kronkers, y’all.

Drugs are the devil.

Lent! Posting every day! I was going to do it! But…



Heroin is why I didn’t– no, couldn’t! do it yesterday. For seriously.


It’s a big problem in these parts. Well, not just heroin, but opioids in general. And I’m trying to be part of the solution (you know, not part of the precipitate– ah ha ha ha!) by working on a grant to help quell the problem a bit up in the Northwoods.

The truth is, sometimes work drives — me — craaaazy — and other times, I wish there were more hours in the day so that I could work and work and write and write because I am on a roll and I believe in what I’m doing. Like super believe in it.

So anyway, that’s what I was doing last night. And what I’ve been doing tonight and will be doing tonight after this until I hit the hay. Don’t feel bad. I’m legit excited about this and really, really want it to move forward– another one of those grants that I’m just going to be so freaking proud of. So proud!

So what did we miss yesterday?

Oy! It was a good one. And I first read it in the morning so I had all day to ponder it and even jotted down some notes in my sweeeet new planner (totally worth the planer-less month on back order)… here’s what it was:

“You shall worship the Sovereign your God, and God only shall you serve.” –Matthew 4:10

Uh huh. One God. But whose got the right one? You? Me? Them? The folks who caught the comet early?

“These words trip off the tongue – all the while I worship other gods. Lesser genies of my ravenous soul. I have worshiped so many false gods in life, yet in the collapse of each of them – and they have indeed all collapsed – I have come closer, ironically, to the god who is God. Everything else has failed me – people, privilege, positions, profit – but not this God who is ‘not in the whirlwind.’ That God, like a magnet, draws me on. And someday, perhaps, I will lose myself down the black hole of nothingness and find everything. Without the dissatisfaction of the soul, how would we ever find our way to more.”

Joan says it doesn’t matter– yours, mine, theirs, Hale-Bopp.

When we think of God as infinite good and unconditional love, false gods are all those things that simply get in the way of goodness and love.

The things that satisfy our soul, the things that bring us closer to God, then, are the things that promote goodness. Celebrate love.

And maybe that’s my big fat problem with almost all religions, the reason I always end up feeling dissatisfied… because to me, rules, and the blind following of all the rules simply because they are the rules does not, for me, promote goodness and celebrate love.

Too much celebrating of rules and and promoting of exclusion. All of that– it’s not good for my soul.


But back to the heroin for now, k? Bonus post on Sunday, perhaps– 40 days and all that.

Drugs really are the devil, eh?