Day Five: Clomid Chaser

I swallowed the last of my series of five Clomid dosages last night, fittingly, I thought, with a gin and tonic. The cat-ladies of the pregnancy-blog world would be horrified.

So the other day, my OB/GYN called me. Every time that woman calls me on the phone I feel as if I've been called by the Pope himself. It's akin to running into your science teacher at the grocery store when you're in the third grade: something's off with the world. I supposed it's also because a personal phone call from my physician feels so old-fashioned. And, I think it's because growing up, doctors were considered to be the end-all, be-all, no matter what.

Doctors were given almost god-like cult status in my home; being a doctor meant you were smarter than everyone else, you were more important to the world than most other people, and you were rich. That may not apply these days; especially, from what I hear, the rich part, but doctors still hold a certain allure in my eyes.

So when she calls me, I turn off the radio. If I'm in my car, I pull over. And if I'm in a room with others, I leave and go to a quiet one where I can be alone with her voice. I hang on her every word and am nervous to take any more of her precious time with my own silly questions. Only, she's never been anything but friendly and honest and approachable with me, which is why I can't get over the sort of celebrity-sighting feeling I have when I see her.

I have no idea if she's a "great" doctor, or if others like her, or hate her or feel indifferent. But I've been with her through some pretty bad shit, and I feel sort of committed to her. Friends don't understand this loyalty, and, it's true, I've considered switching to another doctor several times, just to see what's out there, you know, play the field of physicians and whatnot. But it really seems like such a process, to establish a relationship all over again.

I'm off to the lab to have my blood drawn to check my hormone levels. If I combined all of the blood that I've lost or had taken during this process, I swear it would fill a swimming pool.

With that gorgeous image, I bid you until next time...