I started my Lupron injections last night and it was totally anticlimactic (except for the yowling cat outside of the bathroom wanting to get in to see what was so interesting that I had to close the door). Sweetie and I had discussed that Lupron was part of my protocol and he promptly decided that it should be called the Werewolf Drug in part because of the lup(us) (Latin for wolf) in the name and because of the horror stories of its effects.
So far, I haven’t felt any different, but I’m practicing my howling just in case.
Update: I think I’ve had my first Lupron-fueled meltdown (how many more to go?) this afternoon. Dr. Uterus uses a different lab to do the actual IVF and they called this afternoon to get my insurance information. The lab has this way too perky woman working there who cheerfully informed me that I will probably have drop $1000 for her (including a $600 deductible – never heard of that before) which is in addition to the $1135 that I dropped at Dr. Uterus’ office yesterday. We are using insurance, but it sure as hell doesn’t seem like it right now. I called Sweetie to complain about this latest “oops” fee and once again bemoan the fact that we are paying for that which most people get to do for free. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t very helpful.
He kind of got on my case about letting this stuff bother me. I explained to him that each bill just ratchets up my anxiety and investment and my concern that I will fall really hard should the IVF not work (which seems perfectly reasonable to me). He opined that this was self-defeating (he’s right) and that if I’m going to have that kind of attitude, we might as well just not do it and spend the money on travel or something. Not what I wanted to hear (but probably what I needed to hear). I just wanted to whine. Plain and simple. Instead, I get chastized.
Well, I’ll just whine here: whine, whine, whine, whineeeeeeee, whine, whine, whhhhinnnnnne, whine, whine, whine! And, yes, I would like some cheese with that whine.