I Pity the Reproductive Endocrinologist

(You have to say it like Mr. T.)

I pity the RE who on a sunny Sunday morning DARES to ask me the simple question, “How are you?”


The poor man was nearly eaten alive.

“How am I? How am I? I have to get off birth control before I’m unemployed and thrown in jail. That’s how I am. This is like the worst PMS I’ve ever had. I am not myself, DO YOU HEAR ME? I don’t care if the cyst went away or not. I can’t take the pill anymore! I almost assaulted a homeless guy on the subway with my Theatre Games for the Classroom book on the way here.”

Boy did he do a quick ultrasound! He was like, ok. Cyst is gone. Ok. No more birth control for you. Ok?

Ok. Sounds like a good idea.

Here’s the deal with the homeless guy. I don’t normally assault anyone, especially the downtrodden. But this guy came on the train begging for money by staring people down. Then he decided to pick on an old lady sitting across from me. Instead of continuing to beg his way down the car, he stopped and sat down next to her and stared her down. I rolled up my book as if to kill a fly with it and I was ready to pounce.  (The dude was at least 100 lbs larger than me.)  The woman was smart and not the tremble-in-the-corner-and-pretend-not-to-notice-scary-guy type.  She got up and wedged herself between me and a big burly guy and started the only conversation she could… “You speak Russian?  You speak Russian?”  I, with my book still rolled up, said, “No, but I think you need to change cars at the next stop.”  I tugged at her sleeve.  But not speaking Russian, I don’t think I got my point across and I had to get off at the next stop, so I did.  Only later did I realize that I could very-well have gotten myself pounded to a premenstrual pulp on that train.  Whew.  Saved by the Jay Street stop.

So I stick myself with my first needle on Tuesday and I go back to the ultrasound on Thursday morning.

True to form, I already have a plan for the following cycle.  I’m going to go all natural if this craziness fails me again.  I’m going to invest in acupuncture and I just found out that one of my mom friends is an integrated nutritionist.  Who knew?  So if this one doesn’t work, I’m looking forward to my back-to-nature cycle.



Filed under Waiting and waiting and...

7 responses to “I Pity the Reproductive Endocrinologist

  1. no cyst – that’s good news. even better than you can quit the stupid bcp. and better news again that you weren’t beaten to a pulp by 100pound subway man. with all that good fortune, you’re bound to be knocked up at any moment now! good luck.

  2. Glad to hear the cyst has cleared up. Glad to that you didn’t get beaten to a pulp! What is it with those BCPs? Why do they put added crazy in them?

  3. Co

    Is your doctor going to do blood draws and monitor your E2 levels this cycle?

    Are there any plans for meds to suppress premature ovulation this cycle? It might help. I have some leftover meds for that, BTW. I wondered last cycle if your doc triggered you too early actually. If you were taking some suppression meds, you could let the follies grow a little bigger before you trigger without worrying about ovulating prematurely (last time you only have one that was 18 mm when you triggered). I’m not an R.E., so don’t go by me, but that’s my thought.

  4. Lo

    Wow, you’re like a Guardian Angel! (Do you remember the name of their founder? 😉

  5. Pingback: Massage Therapy Talk » Blog Archive » I Pity the Reproductive Endocrinologist

  6. Heather

    I am going psuedo-natural (I mean how natural can you get with frozen sperm?) and I am much happier. Although, I do get nervous because I am not looking at my follicles on tv to make sure they are there…etc, etc.

    Anyway, glad you can quit the BCP’s and hopefully this cycle will be the one! Fingers, toes, everything crossed for you 😉

  7. danator

    Hmm. BCP never did that to me. Of course, you never know how these things might effect you. I’m glad the cyst is gone and you can get off them! 🙂

    BTW, apparently, having a gaping wound can make you reckless, too. I nearly attacked a couple guys at Daisy’s with a catsup bottle yesterday because they said something about my honey’s ass. Then I realized it might be a bad idea to do that, what with it being two to one, and me still barely able to walk a block without swooning…

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