Awards Are Only Cool If I Get One

Rule #99 (if you haven’t read the handbook): Awards are only cool if MLACS gets one

And I’ve noticed that the Liebster has recently gone ‘viral’ amongst the RPL and IF bloggers, but I haven’t been nominated. So I may remedy the situation by making up my very own award and nominating myself for it. So there (sourpuss snotty-pants).

No actually I’m just kidding (ish).

Anywhoo…nothing super badass going on around here. I went to pick up Mr. MLACS from the airport in the city yesterday, and I spent a ridiculous amount of time perusing World Market because I wanted to buy something for the house. I found a ‘pouf’ and got all worked up and excited when I saw it was marked $20 (down from $79)…until I saw all the little foam beads leaking out of it…and the sales guy came along and I pointed out that it is leaking these beads and it appears there was no way to fix it (the torn inner shell was not accessible)…and he just shrugged his shoulders. Like, really dude? This thing is a worthless piece of sh*t that Goodwill would turn down, but you’re trying to sell it?! It was the first thing I saw and it killed my buzz when I realized it was unsalvageable and the sales guy didn’t give a rat’s ass. But…I continued to fiddle around and look at stuff, and I actually ended up buying: rosemary lavender hand soap (in a mason jar), chocolate (always), Moroccan Tangine sauce, and a loose-leaf tea diffuser cup (I only had one and needed another so I can make tea for visiting friends). I reeeeeeally struggled because I wanted to buy these linen curtains for our bedroom and the price was reasonable–$30 per panel ($60 for 2 panels). Buuuuuuut, I’m supposed to be saving money and I know there’s lots of other places I could put $60 to better use, so I ultimately ditched the curtains in the kitchen section (Isn’t that sh*tty of me not to put them back where they belong? Well, it’s a ‘wash’ due to the disappointing ‘pouf’ incident). I decided that I want to get a firm grip on our finances in 2014, so I ordered the Dave Ramsey ‘starter kit’ and it came in the mail the other day (I’m sure you ALL know who he is, since I seem to be the last one on earth to have heard of him–but click HERE if you want the details). I’ve only just begun to read his book, ‘Total Money Makeover’. But even though I haven’t even touched on Dave Ramsey’s financial planning tools, I had this little voice in the back of my head when I was looking at those curtains in World Market that was saying “What would Dave Ramsey do? Dave Ramsey would put the curtains down. Dammit.” So, while I cannot attest to the efficacy of Dave Ramsey’s financial planning tools, I can say that the system seems to be working for me because I now hear his voice in my head, chiding me for considering non-essential purchases after I proclaimed I wanted to dedicate 2014 to paying off debts. *Sigh*

I have been wanting to try Red Robin (a chain restaurant specializing in burgers) because they are the ONLY place I’ve heard of that serves a gluten-free bun. So after my less-than-stellar experience at World Market, I trotted over to Red Robin and enjoyed a burger on a gluten-free bun and a side of gluten-free fries (the fries were served with a gluten-free honey poppy seed sauce that was to die for). It was quite delicious!

Later, I checked into a hotel room (since Mr. MLACS was getting in suuuuper late) and I was pleasantly surprised by how nice and modern it was–I got a good price on and I was so happy with it that I wished I didn’t have to leave…but I had made plans to meet friends downtown for a fancy steak dinner. I was feeling ‘icky’ all day and was going to deny myself even a glass of wine…buuuuut, I ended up having a glass of Moscato and oddly enough I felt better afterwards (and drank tons of water at dinner). We had a lovely time and I was happy that I procured leftovers to bring to Mr. MLACS, since I felt guilty that he wasn’t there to enjoy it with us. It’s rare that I have an occasion to put on make-up these days and most of the stuff I wear is either spandex or has an elastic waistband, so this was a golden opportunity to put on ‘real’ clothes and polish myself up a bit. And the company was excellent!

After dinner my friends and I went our separate ways–I went back to the hotel room. Mr. MLACS’s flight kept getting more and more and more delayed. I was going to pick him up from the airport but his last flight didn’t arrive until 3am, so he ended up catching a cab. Poor guy! He was beyond exhausted. Well, and so was I. We slept in and ran to a couple more stores before we headed outta town–I had to go to Trader Joe’s (omg I love TJ’s) and also go to a gourmet cupcakery to grab my little sister her fav cupcake (Hey, maybe my award can be the “Best Big Sister” award). We also had lunch at (my fav) PF Chang’s on our way out of town–I had their gluten-free chicken lettuce wraps and those filled me up, so I was able to box most of my gluten-free fried rice to take home. Yummmmm.

We left the city just in time, as it was ‘misting’ and the closer we got to our hometown, the slicker the roads got. By the time we reached our town, the highway traffic was moving at a snails pace due to accidents and then it took us an HOUR to drive through town to get to our house–I had a couple close calls where I was sliding and might have easily caused an accident–thank the Lord we made it home ok. And now, it’s just me, Mr. MLACS, and kitty all tucked away in our cozy little apartment–he’s playing Grand Theft Auto 5 (PS3) and I’m blogging while watching ‘Sense and Sensibility’, having just finished my leftover gluten-free fried rice from PF Chang’s. Life is good.

Oh, and as for the TWW…well, I’m definitely convinced that the Clomid and Femara do bad things to me, because I’m having far less symptoms this month since we only used Bravelle (I actually let Mr. MLACS touch my boobs! Cuz they don’t hurt. He was shocked. And very happy. TMI. Sorry.) We also did the horizontal mambo, without lube (well, except for the progesterone supps), and it didn’t hurt. I actually have cervical mucus–and it’s great 🙂 XO


Hail Mary, Full of Grace…

I’m practically grinding my teeth right now. I don’t know what possessed me, but I decided that I needed to look for scholarly articles about “pregnancy outcomes in women with positive anti-nuclear antibodies”, because ever since my first miscarriage I’ve felt that everything traces back to my fickle (auto)immune system and I cannot stand the thought that I would have to fail another IUI or have another miscarriage before anyone will treat my issue–the treatment is corticosteroids, which are immunosuppressant drugs, and docs do not prescribe them lightly, however, due to my autoimmune issues I’ve taken boatloads of steroids so I’m not your average girl.

Let me back up to say, that I tested negative for anti-nuclear antibodies (ANA’s) in November of 2012. But I tested HIGH POSITIVE with a ratio of 1:160 post-miscarriage in February 2013 (just over a year later), and I had elevated liver enzymes (which is related). A couple months post-miscarriage my ANA’s fell to 1:80, which is still positive (and really, once you’re positive, having a lower number doesn’t mean much). Then, I went on to have a ‘chemical pregnancy’ (early miscarriage). I am 100% sure that my immune system “picked off” my first pregnancy–the evidence points to it–but I can’t prove it because my (former) stupid OB didn’t have me “test the products of conception”. Since the chemical pregnancy I have been ttc for 6 months and 5 of those cycles have been medicated–3 of them are IUI’s with injectables (though this third one doesn’t count yet because I’m in the middle of it now). It’s quite suspicious that I haven’t conceived by now, in my opinion, given our heroic efforts and the fact that we conceived twice naturally. What I’m pointing at is this: antibodies get ‘smarter’ and ‘faster’ each time they are exposed to a “pathogen”–you know, like when you build up immunity by being exposed, like chicken pox, and each time you’re exposed your immunity grows stronger. Well, I believe that my anti-nuclear antibodies are getting more keen to my pregnancies, and “picking them off” before they can even implant. It explains my pattern.

And guys, I just can’t bear the thought of losing another pregnancy–another baby. I can’t bear the thought that I might fail IUI #3 and waste more time and have to pay for MORE expensive tests at an RE’s office and be shoved toward IVF, when I could simply take 10mg of prednisolone and baby aspirin (I’d prefer Levonox as a prophylactic, but the baby aspirin should work with ANA’s). It simply drives me mad to think there’s something else to be done that isn’t being done.

And I really feel like my angels (particularly my Mom) were gently pushing me to look for scholarly articles on pubmed today, so that I can show them to Dr. Angel and make a case for the prednisolone. I hesitantly suggested it a week ago, and he said he’d consult with his RE, but he hasn’t had a chance. Plus, this RE doesn’t know me so even if he’s aware of the connection between implantation failure, miscarriage, and positive ANA’s…he may tell Dr. Angel it’s not a necessity. But what I’m seeing is that it most certainly IS a necessity. I’m going to post the abstracts from the articles I looked at. And I want you to tell me what you would do if you were me? Would you move heaven and earth to make sure you had the damn steroids? Cuz I feel prepared to do that. In fact, I think I’ve said it before: there’s nothing I WON’T do to have a baby. There’s nothing I WON’T do to protect my baby…from myself. And really, 10mg of prednisolone is child’s play compared to the Remicade I was on, so what’s the harm? I can’t keep doing this. I PRAY Dr. Angel looks at these abstracts and agrees to give me prednisolone. I really feel like this might be the magic ingredient for me and I feel like I have everything to gain and nothing to lose by taking it. I didn’t properly cite these (like, for you aspiring professors out there).

So, here’s the abstracts if you’re interested–this first one even suggests that my poor ovarian response may be linked with having ANA’s:

Immunol Invest. 2012;41(5):458-68. doi: 10.3109/08820139.2012.660266. Epub  2012 Mar 19.

Antinuclear antibodies predicts a poor IVF-ET outcome: impaired egg and embryo development and reduced pregnancy rate.


To investigate the impact of anti-nuclear antibodies (ANAs) on the outcome of in vitro fertilization-embryo transfer (IVF-ET), 66 (96 cycles) infertile women positive for anti-nuclear antibodies (ANA+ group), and 233(285 cycles) infertile women negative for ANAs (ANA- group) were enrolled. The clinical characteristics and IVF outcome were compared between the two groups. In the ANA+ group, the proportion of MII oocytes and two-pronuclear zygotes (2PN), cleavage rate, number of available embryos and proportion of available embryos, number of high-quality embryos and proportion of high-quality embryos were significantly lower than those in the ANA- group. In addition, the pregnancy rate and implantation rate in patients positive for ANA was markedly lower than the ANA- patients (28.1% vs 46.4%, 15% vs 25.7%, respectively). Thus, our findings suggest that the presence of ANAs significantly interfere with the oocyte and embryo development, as well as reduce implantation and pregnancy rate in patients undergoing IVF treatment.

J Reprod Med. 2005 Jun;50(6):383-8.

Results of prednisolone given to improve the outcome of in vitro fertilization-embryo transfer in women with antinuclear antibodies.



To evaluate the association of antinuclear antibodies (ANA) with outcome of in vitro fertilization-embryo transfer (IVF-ET) as well as the effect of short-term immunosuppression with prednisolone on implantation, clinical pregnancy and live birth rates following IVF-ET.


The study group consisted of 120 women, 22-42 years old, in whom IVF-ET was performed and whose ANA could be measured. Prednisolone (15-60 mg/d for 5 days) was administered starting 1 day after oocyte retrieval to some women with or without ANA, without randomization. The 223 IVF-ET cycles were divided into prednisolone-nontreated ANA-negative cycles, prednisolone-treated ANA-negative cycles, prednisolone-nontreated ANA-positive cycles and prednisolone-treated ANA-positive cycles. Retrospective analysis of rates of implantation, clinical pregnancy, and live birth were evaluated in the four groups.


Overall, ANA positivity was noted in 20.0% of subjects (24/120) and 25.1% of cycles (56/223). Implantation and clinical pregnancy rates in the prednisolone-nontreated ANA-positive group were 0% (0/41 transplanted embryos) and 0% (0/15 cycles), significantly lower than in the other groups. The live birth rate in this group was significantly lower than in the prednisolone-nontreated ANA-negative group and non-significantly tended to be lower than in the other 2


Implantation, clinical pregnancy and live birth rates following IVF-ET were low when ANA was detected. Implantation and clinical pregnancy rates were improved significantly by prednisolone, but the live birth rate was not.

Fertil Steril. 1998 Dec;70(6):1044-8.

Prednisolone plus low-dose aspirin improves the implantation rate in women with autoimmune conditions who are undergoing in vitro fertilization.



To evaluate the effect of prednisolone plus low-dose aspirin (PSL/LDA) in women with autoimmune conditions who were enrolled in an IVF-ET program.


A retrospective clinical study.


In vitro fertilization unit, Niigata University Hospital, Niigata, Japan.


Three hundred seven women who underwent IVF-ET between January 1996 and December 1997.


Prednisolone (10 mg/d) and aspirin (81 mg/d) were administered to the women with autoantibodies who chose to participate.


Pregnancy and implantation rates with IVF-ET.


Women undergoing IVF who had positive antinuclear antibodies, with or without antiphospholipid antibodies, had significantly lower pregnancy and implantation rates than did women without autoantibodies (14.8% versus 21.7% and 6.8% versus 10.4%, respectively). The administration of PSL/LDA to women with antinuclear antibodies significantly improved the outcome of IVF-ET (40.6% pregnancy rate and 20.3% implantation rate).


A high proportion of women who are undergoing IVF-ET have autoantibodies, which are associated with poor IVF outcomes. The administration of PSL/LDA to these women may improve their implantation rate.



Lackluster. But I’ll Take It.


I saw Dr. Angel yesterday (Friday) and my uterine lining was ‘7’–plus my follies were a lovely ‘14.5’ and ’14’ on the left ovary and the cyst on my right ovary is continuing to resolve–plus I got my HCG shot delivered via FedEx–plus I retrieved Mr. MLACS from the airport. However, it was a bummer having to inform Mr. MLACS that Dr. Angel said “no hanky panky” until after the IUI. Naturally, Mr. MLACS was rather disgusted at the thought of waiting 3+ weeks for his ‘welcome home’, only to be cock-blocked by our OBGYN. However, there is a ‘silver lining’ because there were 2 packages delivered yesterday: My HCG shot AND His brand new ‘Grand Theft Auto 5’ video game. So we both felt rejected–he ditched me for his video game. But that was ok, because I didn’t have any expectations since he’s been working every day for the last 23 days and had a long flight home. Even after rising early to go see Dr. Angel and driving 4 hours round-trip to fetch Mr. MLACS from the airport, I still managed to rally myself to do 40 minutes of walking at 3.6mph on the treadmill and some serious stretching–I noticed my muscles were more tense than usual…I’ve been wondering if I might have caught a cold…

When I woke up I realized that I do indeed have a head cold. Congested, slightly achy, throat sore from snoring/ breathing through my mouth (Mr. MLACS confirmed that I was snoring). I blame myself for not using hand sanitizer at every opportunity. But honestly I don’t mind, because if my (auto)immune system is busy fighting a head cold then maybe it will forget to attack my colon (Ulcerative Colitis).

Today I woke Mr. MLACS at 7am and dragged him with me to witness the follies/ uterine lining/ fancy chair/ dildocam. My husband is 6’6″, which I can only assume was the reason that Dr. Angel apologized for the dust on his ceiling fan when we walked into the examination room–because I certainly wouldn’t have noticed it (and FYI, I don’t think to dust my own ceiing fans until I see dust hanging off of them, so who am I to judge?). My uterine lining measured ‘8.5’; my two follies on my left ovary measured ‘16.5’ and ’16’; the cyst on my right ovary continues to shrink (hooray). I was happy with the progress and Mr. MLACS gingerly reached up and dusted off Dr. Angel’s ceiling fan as a courtesy before we left. We swung by Walgreens to pick up some OPK’s and Tylenol. When we got home I POAS–my OPK test line was barely visible so I’m nowhere near ovulating on my own (not a big surprise, because I usually don’t get a positive OPK until CD16 or CD17 and it’s only CD13 today). Hoping to trigger on Monday and do the IUI on Tuesday. Also, Dr. Angel had blood work done yesterday and I forgot to ask him about my Estradiol and TSH levels. *sneeze*sniffle* I have to be at Dr. Angel’s office tomorrow morning at 7am, and I’m hoping that Mr. MLACS will remind me to ask about my labs because my brain doesn’t function well at this hour–especially when I have a head cold. This weekend thus far is not the ‘romantic reunion’ I had hoped for; Mr. MLACS is playing his video game and I’m on the couch with my cat and my box of tissues blogging about my ovaries. Meh, sometimes life is lackluster, but I’d rather have good news tainted by ‘blah’ than bad news coated in ‘glitter’. XO

Please Don’t Leave Me…

Well hello ladies, hope you’ve all enjoyed your weekend (I know some of you haven’t, I read your blogs, and if you had a crappy weekend then that sucks and I’m sorry).

I miss Mr. MLACS waaaaay more than I thought I would. I’m going to try not to whine about it too much, because this is something I’m just going to have to get used to–we’re planning for him to continue this job with this schedule for at least 13 more months (gone 1/2 the month). It will really set us up financially. But in the meantime, I got a job! Yep, sure did. I will be doing clerical work (check-in, check-out) in a busy medical office. And the cool thing, is that I only work 3 days a week but it’s full time so I get benefits–the secondary insurance should cover all my co-pays (of course, I’ll have to look into that before I enroll, because if it’s crappy insurance I may be better off not enrolling). I don’t start until December though, which leaves me with a lot of time to miss Mr. MLACS in November.

So it’s just me and the cat. And I’m trying to corral my girlfriends to hang out with me–even bribing them with food if they’ll come over for dinner. It worked: I have dinner dates for Mon/Tues/Thur this week. Good thing they’ll accept food as a bribe, since Mr. MLACS doesn’t get paid until December (no paycheck for November and he didn’t work in October while waiting for his stupid HR to get his visa approved) and we are briggity-broke until the December paycheck. Oh, and we might have just squeaked by, until the IRS seized my husband’s account, saying he owed 2009 and 2010 taxes. I don’t know if what they did is even legal, but luckily my husband’s accountants are all over it and got most of it straightened out–except the IRS is haggling over $1700 and won’t release that money yet (the accountants showed them the records that Mr. MLACS paid but the IRS says they can’t find their record of it! This is SO unfair!) This is money we were counting on to pay our bills!

But what is life without some sort of drama??? And life has blessed me, because I never have to self-create my problems (don’t you hate people that have so few problems they have to conjure drama in order to have something to b*tch about? So mundane!) Well life just hands drama/problems to me, so I never have to work myself into a frenzy over nothing, oh no, there’s always something legit for me to freak out about. Always a hot potato for me to juggle. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if everything just got easy all of a sudden. Seriously, “easy” just isn’t meant for me, and I accept that. But I don’t have to like it.

You may or may not give a crap about any of the above, but I’ll include this update on my procreational efforts: I might be pregnant. Or I might not. I have no f*ing clue. I had sex EOD a week before ovulation, then 2 days in a row (day before and day of positive OPK), and then I had sex EOD until Mr. MLACS took off. And so I’m sure there were like 600 million sperm there (given that Mr. MLACS is an overachiever) and I’m confident that they met the egg–I have not doubt. But we all know, that a fertilized egg doesn’t equal a pregnancy. And really, I’m not feeling a sense of urgency to be pregnant this month, since we’re calling it a “break” cycle (unmedicated). This month, I’m actually more afraid of being pregnant–the fear of losing it, rather than the fear of disappointment from a negative HPT. Every month is different, and last month I felt the opposite (desperate for pregnancy, less concerned about RPL). I don’t bother symptom-spotting anymore since I started taking the progesterone supplements and they give me ALL the symptoms.

Also, I’m feeling quite invested in the IF/RPL community and I’m nervous that I’ll become pregnant and become irrelevant, or rather, I will only be relevant to IF’ers who are now pregnant. I promise two things if I am pregnant: 1. I will still write regularly, and it won’t just be about pregnancy and expectant mother stuff. 2. I will not talk about the magic of an ultrasound, or any unicorn and rainbows crap–I will be living in fear and guilt and I will tell you all about it. My husband will be gone half the time. I will still have to have to take 20 pills a day, including several Class B drugs (guilt, oh so much guilt). I’ll be trying to hide all of this from the doctors I work for. I’m sure people will say all sorts of belligerent sh*t to me. I won’t post ‘bump’ pics or tell you ‘baby is the size of a prune’. Promise. Please don’t leave me (if I get pregnant before you). Please, I’m begging you. And I promise I will be there for you, too, no matter what. I will celebrate your good times and I will cry (I sincerely cry when I read your sad posts) when bad things happen and I will (I do) feel as though they’re happening to me too. *sniffle* Love you guys. Mean it.

The Journey of 1,482.3 Miles Begins With…

The journey of 1,482.3 miles begins with…
A mental breakdown at my local pharmacy? Yep. That happened. I will elaborate, but first…

Geez where to begin? So I did almost nothing to get ready for our move, until the night before the movers were scheduled (Wed. night)…and I spent the next 2 days in a sleep-deprived, anxiety-ridden, twilight-zone-esque (altered) state of existence. I did bad things, and I’ll confess to y’all:

1. I drank 3 (big) glasses of wine & smoked 3 cigarrettes at the farewell party Mr. MLACS’s company threw for us on Thursday night. Felt like a$$ afterwards.

2. Been consistently drinking coffee 24/7 since Wednesday–I would mainline it if I could.

3. I’ve had to drug my cat (Kitty equivalent of Valium) and shove him in a carrier–for his own good–but it hurts my soul.

4. I was in a hurry to get on the road, and one of my last tasks was to pick up my prescription (one of many), and I went H.A.M. on my pharmacist…

I have to preface this story…I go to Walgreens pharmacy for ALL of my prescriptions, including my Remicade infusions (which cost $6000+ each).
I’d say, if you took the annual cost of my meds and divided it by 12, conservatively, I probably purchase (via insurance) $7000 of meds per month through these guys.
If they offered me frequent flier miles for this sh*t, I could plan a trip around the globe.
So, they ought to kiss my a$$, right? Well they don’t. And that’s fine by me. But they have a BAD HABIT that I have ignored for quite some time…until Saturday…
Besides Remicade, I now have 3 other meds I order each month. And they NEVER give me the full prescriptions…they say “Oh we only have X amount to give you today, but please come back on X day to collect the rest of your meds”. Well, take 2 trips and multiply it by 3 medications, and what you get is 6 trips to Walgreens each month. I never complain–it didn’t even cross my mind–the pharmacy is near my house, so I figure, no big deal, right?
Well, earlier that week I went to pick up my Canasa (suppositories, my fav) and the lovely ESL pharmacy tech informed me that (yet again) I would need to come back for the remainder of the script. Then, she said I had to pay for the whole thing up-front, which was unusual, but I gave her my card…and it was denied (insufficient funds) and I had to call Mr. MLACS to transfer more money into the acct, while this guy behind me angrily tapped his foot. But fine, whatever–she said the meds would be in before our move.
By Saturday, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally fried. But, home-stretch, I just needed to retrieve these meds and we could be on our way to the next chapter of our life together (Me, Mr. MLACS, and Kitty).
So I pull up to the drive thru, and wait for someone to greet me…and they see me, and I see they are not that busy, but I waited…and I pressed the ‘call’ button…and I waited…and finally the male pharmacy tech greets me, and I let him know I’ve already paid and I’m just there to pick up…which it should be SO simple for him to just grab the meds and shove them at me…but I waited…and I waited…and I was watching the pharmacist and the tech jovially talking to a customer inside…and suddenly my blood began to simmer…so I pushed the ‘call’ button again…and the tech replied “we’ll be with you as soon as we can”–like I’m pestering him–no “I’m sorry for your wait ma’am”…and I waited…


I literally burnt rubber speeding away from the drive thru, then I sped around the corner and screeched to a halt in a parking space. I threw the car into park, threw open the door–slammed it–and literally ran into Walgreens. I walked briskly for a moment, but then jogged to the ‘drop off’ window, peeked around the corner and saw the Pharmacist, and said “Bill (not his real name), I need a manager NOW!!!!!” My voice was breathless and shaky. He looked alarmed and quickly ended the phone call he was on, and asked me what was the matter. I stammered,
“I’ve been waiting and waiting–more than 10 minutes–in the drive thru, to pick up a medication I already paid for, because you didn’t have it ready the other day. And furthermore, your pharmacy tech could’ve taken care of it quickly, but instead he left me hanging and when I finally pressed the call button all he said was “we’ll be there as soon as we can”–with no apology for my wait.” And Bill said “I’m sorry, but please don’t scare me like that–I thought you were hurt or there was an emergency”.
And I calmed down a bit. “No” I said “I apologize for scaring you. But you know if it’s not my Canasa, it’s my Delzicol. And if it’s not my Delzicol, then it’s my Rowasa…it’s not fair I should have to come here so often, and then be made to wait and wait and be treated like I’m an inconvenience. I know you deal with a lot of people, but is it too much to ask for timely and courteous service?”
“No” Bill said “I apologize, we are short-staffed. And also, I can look at your scripts and make sure to have them in-stock for you so this doesn’t keep happening.” And the pharmacy tech apologized. And I felt vindicated, so I grabbed my script and left, without telling them I’m moving and I won’t be their problem anymore.
I got in my car, and just started sobbing….I was embarrassed! But why should I have had to do that? Obviously the pharmacist and techs have no f*cking clue what it’s like to live with a chronic illness.
I spend a disproportionate amount of time going to doctors, feeling like sh*t and laying around, paying co-pays for prescriptions ($150+ per month) that I’d rather spend on fun stuff, plus the time it takes to actually take/use said prescriptions, and then making superfluous trips to the pharmacy…I spend too much of my life dealing with this sh*t to have to waste another 20 minutes waiting at your f*cking drive thru window, especially since it’s holding up my family from starting the journey to our new life.
So yeah, I wish that had never happened. In fact, I wish my immune system had never corrupted, causing all these problems in the first f*cking place. It’s not fair. I’m tired of dealing with it. I want to be well. I want to be off all medications. I want my f*cking life back the way it was before autoimmune disease started tainting it.

Ok, end rant. We are currently in the sunny & quaint town of Grand Junction, Colorado. We finally got our ducks-in-a-row and left the the Southwest behind us yesterday (post-pharmacy-meltdown). Only 977 miles left until we reach our new home in the Midwest. I hope my new Walgreens is more sensitive than the old one, because they have no idea who they’re dealing with–I’m loco de la cabeza.

My Cat Ate My Clomid

Well sort of…he tried to…
I am Mother to an exclusively indoor American short-hair male calico cat. I’ll wax poetic about him later. Although he is an indoor cat, he loves to ‘hunt’ bugs and he has a bunch of toy mice that he will bat around the house, and when he’s done with them he ‘drowns’ them in his water bowl, as if to say “game over”. He occasionally drowns found objects in the water bowl, such as my ponytail holders or recently a valuable string of pearls (that were left on the counter–where he is NOT allowed and he knows this).
Last night I was on cd6 and I’m taking 50mg Clomid cd3-7. I have an arduous nightly routine that includes taking about 20 pills (meds & supplements) and then shoving something (either suppository or enema) in my rear-end to keep my Ulcerative Colitis “quiet”. I was having Clomid-inspired hot flashes last night and getting ready for bed seemed like a particularly big pain in the butt (no pun intended, but ha ha). Right before I was to decide between suppository (easier but less effective) or enema (always works but I always worry I will accidentally soil the bed). I had bloody diarrhea, which means my UC is “angry” and so I sucked it up and did the enema.
I was feeling sorry for myself because I know that the hormones (Clomid + Progesterone) are wreaking havoc and “flaring” my autoimmune issues: Ulcerative Colitis (UC) + Lichen Sclerosus (LS). My va-jay-jay is still sore from sex two nights ago because the LS is causing scar tissue inside and out, plus the Clomid is causing me to have brown discharge and I can’t use a tampon since my vagina feels like it has rug-burn…I was having a moment where I felt totally awful and wondered how much longer I can keep doing this to my body (miscarriages & hormone therapy). I laid down and realized I was having UC-inspired lower back pain, and I thought “f*ck it, I haven’t taken any Vicodin in a long time” so I went back downstairs and broke one of my (coveted) hydrocodone pills in half and took 1/2 a pill. I was sweating bullets as I huffed-and-puffed back upstairs and flopped down in bed.
Just as I got comfortable I realized “I forgot to take my Clomid!” I sat bolt upright. Geezus, how could I have forgotten?! So I stumbled back downstairs, opened the medicine cabinet and fished around for the little silver packet of Clomid pills…found it and took #4…and decided to put the package on the counter so I wouldn’t forget it the next day. The Vicodin kicked in and I slept like a baby.
Woke up to Kitty meowing in my face and jumping all over me and the hubs, figured he was hungry and came downstairs to take a look at his bowl…and saw there was something silver and shiny sitting next to it. I gasped, “You didn’t”?! It appeared as though Kitty had jumped up on the counter and decided to play ‘mouse’ with my package of Clomid…”please tell me he didn’t ‘drown’ my last Clomid pill!” The package was beside the water bowl, not in it, and when I picked it up it was dry and the last pill was still sealed properly, thank God! I was sitting there thinking “what if I had to call the pharmacy and tell them my cat ate my Clomid? Would they even believe me?” And also I tried to imagine my cat having hot flashes…luckily neither scenario played out. I shook the package at Kitty and he got a spanking–that’s what kind of parent I am–the kind that spanks (not maliciously though, the only way he knows the difference between playing and punishment is the tone of my voice).
So cheers! to the completion cycle #2 of Clomid pills…now the fun part begins…will I ovulate on-time or will it be late again? Baby aspirin? Check. Metanx? Check. Endometrin? Check. Mucinex? Check. Preseed? Check. Fabulous SA results from the hubs? Check. Remicade to mediate my NK cell activity? Check. Now all I need is a good egg.