Pamplemousse

PCOS - check. Infertility - check. IVF - check. 43 years young - check. Sick of babydust - fricking double check. Join a Scottish infertile as she slowly swirls down the plughole. Now with added donor egg flava.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Comme ci, comme caca

Thank you all again for all your kind words. They really do help!

Well, the weekend away in Glasgow was the best antidote for all my ills. I started off on Saturday morning with a pedicure as my little piggies had been neglected of late. Lovely, lovely relaxation and pearly pink tootsies to boot!

A 3 hour lunch with our good friends R & M in Rogano's Oyster Bar, followed by a little light shopping was just the ticket. I hoovered up a goats cheese starter, salmon fillets in broth and summer pudding with creme anglais followed by coffee with tablet and rum truffles. Yum-yum. Good food and good company. It should be available on the NHS!

Of course, a little wine was sprinkled here and there throughout the day and R&M also had the open mini-bar in their hotel room. More relaxation!

One slight cloud on the horizon was when I attempted to sniff my Saturday evening toot of Synarel. First nostril fine and dandy. Second nostril attempted but only air was emitted from the suddenly empty bottle! Aaack, this meant that I would not be home until Sunday evening and would miss the Sunday morning toot. The damn bottle had leaked in my bag.

I decided that I was not going to ruin my weekend by screaming and crying hysterically nor were we going to jump in the car and drive 2 and a half hours home to retrieve a new bottle. So I missed a dose and a half. So what? You can remind me of this in a few weeks when IVF#2 goes pear-shaped.

Following that, I was ready for an evening of pyrotechnics, ear-splitting German rock and thousands of nu-Goths. Aah, the memories of when I used to be a real Goth in the 80s. Now I just look like a nu-Goth's middle-aged auntie haha! We retired to our hotel with our ears ringing but happy.

Sunday was, as promised, a pilgrimage to the Swedish mecca of Ikea where I worshipped at the altar of pillows and towels. Much retail therapy ensued and we arrived home just in time to deliver a double dose of Synarel in the evening.

Not a tear was shed all weekend - just the result I (and Mr P) were looking for!

5 Comments:

At 4:05 PM, Anonymous MM said...

Thanks for stopping by my blog!! I've been meaning to stop by yours for a while, as every time I see your name in a comments section I think, Pamplemousse?! That's sheer genius. Sorry that the drug sniffing went slighty awry this wknd, but it sounds like you recovered nicely.

 
At 4:09 PM, Blogger Mellie said...

Sounds like a lovely weekend. And don't stress yourself out about the missed dosage - who knows, maybe it'll end up being the secret to success.

 
At 12:19 AM, Blogger Em said...

I agree! Break the rules to suceed! I'm always forgetting to take my Bromocriptine! I've never been to Glasgow. I'm going to try and go this year.

 
At 4:06 AM, Blogger amyesq said...

Sounds like my kind of weekend. Well, except for the sniffing part. I am sure it will be fine, by the way.

 
At 10:12 PM, Anonymous thalia said...

I am impressed by your zen-like goddess qualities. You can bet that we would have been driving home at full tilt, or H would have been dispatched to every pharmacy in the city. Glad you had such a lovely time and generally keeping my fingers crossed for you.

 

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