Got all the meds this morning. Dumped right on the front porch. And somehow my insurance paid more for them this time than the last cycle. WTF?

I just work here, man.

Got my Heparin, Lupron, PIO (vile, foul, evil stuff), Doxycycline, my one valium (a taste test, I tell you) my Vivelle patches, my progesterone suppositories my 4 BAGS of needles, my alcohol wipes, and something else that I can’t remember.

And I still can’t believe this is here. If I try to get my head around all the hopes and fears and expectations and anticipation my head will explode. So I’m not going to try. I acknowledge all those undercurrents, but I’m not going to get swept up in them. Things are what they are, and this is my story. This is where I am right now, no matter what I want or wish. Que sera, sera.

Don’t worry, I won’t burst into song. šŸ™‚

I also just found out I have to go to a cardiologist for my recent crop of PVC’s. I’m not quite sure how to play this. I doubt I can get in to see him much before the IVF cycle. And if I say something to my clinic I don’t know what they’ll do. I don’t think they’ll chuck the whole cycle. PVC’s are pretty common. But do I want to risk it? Hmm. Shitstorm vs Zen.

I gotta make some phone calls, I think.