I woke up with a
fever and thirty-six hours later I was suddenly on my fourth round of Clomid.
Or at least
that’s how it feels. On Wednesday morning I woke up bright and early so that I
could endure the indignity of a nurse-administered pregnancy (blood) test[1]
when, hello-don’t-you-see-my-pockets-stuffed-full-of-tampons.
Anyway, feeling a bit resentful woozy and what I would later realize
was, what’s the word I’m looking for?
feverish! I stumbled into the doctor's office in the pre-dawn hours, coughing all
over anyone in my path. I dismissed the motherly words of the tech who told
me I looked like hell said I looked like I “could use some sleep” and desperately
tried to stop the exam room from spinning. Afterwards, thinking that maybe I should consider calling in sick, I went home, took my
temperature and was sort of bewildered when it turned up at 102.
It was all
downhill from there and the next 12-16 hours are a bit of daze. Having a fever
basically makes me feel like I’m five years old and “adult fever” sounds like
either a 60s throwback album or a sexually transmitted disease[2]
offered at a discount through this service[3].
