So Monday brought with it the worst possible flu – which I assure you is among the shittiest things that can possibly happen four days before you are due to start stimming (especially given this rendition of the Battle of Stalingrad going on in my head).
Cue: panic from all quarters on the fate of this cycle. My IVF doc, who wants me at 100%, was talking about cancelling (given my age, the cost, and the fact that this is cycle 5 – it can’t be great for his self-esteem), and my GP was weighing up antibiotics. I travel in June, so if May was a no-go, the cycle was on hold until July. That’s a long time to keep holding your breath.
Thankfully, the GP went with a diagnosis of a really bitchy virus, choosing to just gun down the symptoms rather than bring out the canons. So instead of cancelling the cycle, I’ll do an additional week of BCPs and pray like crazy that I completely flush this out of my system by Friday.
I’ve been ordered to rest, and my bedside table looks like the shrine of a hypochondriac – multivitamins, vitamin C, antihistamines, anti-inflammatories, stuff for the cough, stuff for the sore throat, stuff for the headache, BCPs, folic acid, blood thinners. All I need now is a couple of mixers and I’ll have the makings of a part-ay!
I’m also supposed to avoid crowded places and human beings like the, well, plague, so I’m under house arrest. Now staring at the beetroots, oranges, and berries in my fridge wondering what kind of immunity shield I can build. I guess I could also chuck in a whole lot of “good for you but tastes like muck” stuff, because I can’t taste anything anyway.
Anyway, here’s a song that has accompanied me through my previous cycles (I have all kinds of songs I play to my eggs and embryos, because science), and I thought it was an appropriate one for today.