W is very lucky, he almost landed up at our local emergency room having X-rays’ taken that would have looked something like the above! What happened?? Well, lets just say that the IVF hormones have really started to kick and I’ve turned into a sleepy, grumpy, hormonal, psycho biaatch! And this morning he made the fatal mistake of attempting to f*ck up help with my Cetrotide shot. I had scans on both Saturday and Sunday so the clinics IVF Co-ordinators administered my shots for me, today was my first day of doing both the Menopur and Cetrotide myself. The problem came in that the IVF Co-ordinator who assisted me yesterday made the assumption that I had injected myself with Cetrotide previously and so she neglected to show me the locking mechanism on the Cetrotide syringe. So this morning I was mixing and prepping all the injections and was complaining to W that I couldn’t figure out how to get the Cetrotide syringe unlocked so that I could squirt the liquid into the powder for mixing. He, of course, being a typical-male-mr-f*ck it up-fix-it, decided that brute force would work best. So he marched up to where all my meds were neatly layed out for administration, grabbed the Cetrotide syringe, and with all his manly strength forced the locking mechanism into an unlocked state by simply forcing the stopper through the syringe, this caused the Cetrotide liquid to spray at high velocity straight up in the air to the tune of me screaming STOP STOP STOP!! I promptly burst into tears because its now 6am and I cannot inject my precious Cetrotide as I only have powder for it and no liquid and its the very NB injection that’s preventing my body for ovulating the very expensive and very precious follicles that have developed! My reaction was to grab the syringe out of his hand and then force myself not to give into the strong urge to ram the used needle straight into his eye. Of course, the desire returned when he immediately got angry with ME for crying!! Aaaaarrrrggggghhh, you would think after 7 years of fertility treatment he wouldn’t have developed some kind of understanding of hormonal mood swings, but no, instead he goes into Jannie Jammer Gat mode (Johnny Sorry For Himself) which is like waving a flag in front of a raging bull for me, I can actually feel the smoke escaping out of my flared nostrils as I work my hardest to hold bag the snorts of fury!
Of course, I now have to make a mad dash to my clinic to get a new Cetrotide injection, so while sitting in the fantastic Sandton traffic, I feel my frustration levels begin to rise yet again, I decide to phone my Mom in the hope of getting some sympathy. After relaying the story to her, the strong urge to stab somebody with a used needle yet again surfaced when, instead of receiving sympathy, I was told to take a deep breathe and count to 10!!!!!!!!Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Does anybody actually know me??? Does anybody actually get that I’m a walking raging hormone? Do they understand how they teeter on the brink of a violent death each time they fail to indulge my hormonal moods????????
Thankfully I have now had some time to calm down somewhat and now, I’m unable to control the urge to laugh my head off each time I think of the look on W’s face as he saw the fountain of Cetrotide liquid spray about 5 meters into the air this am!!!!