It's been a rough week or so. Last Tuesday I got some really lousy news from the doctor's office. This higher dose of Femara that caused even more side effects not only didn't help, but it cut my P+7 estrogen level in half. Yup, I just love spending gobs of cash and feeling like crap to have a medication have exactly the opposite effect than that which was desired. (Technically, that's only half true since my progesterone level was fine, but I've been in no mood to focus on the positive.) I spent pretty much the whole afternoon weeping in exhaustion and frustration.
To top that glorious day off, I had a pastoral council meeting to go to that evening. I knew I was in no shape to go, but I didn't feel like I could skip it since I had promised to fill in for the recorder/scribe/secretary. It was so not a good meeting - I was in no shape for a discussion that basically implied that we may more or less be scrapping everything we had been working on for the last 6 months (more than 20 hours of meetings). On top of it, during a discussion of how to get parishioners more involved and on fire with their faith, our director of religious education pretty much implied that we weren't busy people (didn't have lives?!?!) and didn't have problems. (The direct comment was something to the effect that people who don't do more than come to Mass are "very busy people and are dealing with major problems.") I nearly handed in my resignation on the spot. Honestly, I am still stewing over her comment. Why the blethering hells am I giving up so much of my time and energy if it isn't valued, and if I am just going to be insulted? I spend a lot of my time feeling like crap, and I don't want to waste what little time I have if it isn't worthwhile.
Later that week I found out that Husbandio will probably have to go on a business trip to upstate New York around mid-May. Based on my cycle, it looks like our options are to take the month off or have me accompany him. His employer doesn't have any problems with me going along, but he will be working long hours while there. The area where he will be working is kind of the middle of nowhere, so there wouldn't be a whole lot for me to do. What few historical attractions exist do not open until June. Then there's the challenge of food; I can do reasonably well when I'm at home, but I'm less confident about eating out for a week. Plus there's the expense of eating out for a week... Not to mention my fears of how tired Husbandido will be after long, stressful hours working off-site; he does need to have a certain amount of energy for things to work. There's also the question of how I will handle all the medications. It's bad enough feeling miserable when you're home and you have your familiar things and pets around you; it's something completely different to be miserable by yourself in a hotel room. There's also the question of when I will need to start the HCG and whether there will be a fridge in the room. (As you may recall, my last experience traveling with reconstituted HCG did not go so well.) Who, me, worry much? I'm just not that excited about going, though I know that it's probably the best choice. Those grains of sand keep sliding through the hour glass.
Yesterday while puttering around online I discovered that the adoption agency that has been our Plan B is gone. Their website is no more, and the phone is disconnected. I'm not usually one for signs and portents, but part of me can't help take this as an indication that adoption may not be for us. (Other agencies either completely blew me off/never followed up when I requested information or handle very few adoptions per year and have very long lists of prospective adoptive parents.)
On top of it, I received a somewhat snarky reply when I asked the president of the other organization I am doing volunteer work for a simple question. What is it with people and their whole "busier than thou" crap? Is it just a way of making yourself seem more important? (Especially in this case - I was looking for a simple yes or no, not a dissertation.)
Somewhere there's a bright spot... the sun is out, birds are singing, and the flowers are starting to bloom. But it's CD3, the first day of medium/heavy flow, and I'm about to start Clomid again. In a few more days, I'll start the double dose of antibiotics. (I just love reading the side effect information, don't you?)