No, let's try that again

So, my period started yesterday. Really it did! But since the good gushing pat of it didn't kick in until 9 PM-ish, the clinic is calling today, Monday, Day 1. Hey, that's cool. Halachicly, Sunday was Day 1 (I did a bedikah before sundown, since I knew what was coming), which means that I can theoretically get to the mikvah as early as Thursday night, March 16, which is only Day 11 according to the clinic.* And since I'm taking Clomid on Days 5-9, that means I have pretty much no chance of missing ovulation this cycle.

Just to recap my day a bit...I realized five minutes into my commute (too late to go back home, as I was already on the train) that I did not have my cell phone with me. This is bad, as my desk location is not exactly private and so all clinic phone calls are done on my cell phone, hidden in a rarely-used payphone nook off of a public hallway. So Ezra, wonderful husband that he is, drove to my work (not exaactly on the way to his) and dropped off my phone. of course, it could be that the reason he did so is because I told him that the alternative involved him reporting the start of my cycle to the clinic and, really, what guy wants to discuss his wife's period with some anonymous nurse?

So, finally, I called the clinic and left a detailed message for my primary nurse (not the First Nurse I was dealing with in the first couple of weeks after our RE appointment last month). This message included a full Menstrual Report, as well as requests for the rest of my bood test results from my initial consultation. And, of course, because I live my life according to Murphy's Law, she chose to call back two minutes before the end of my workday, when I was in the bathroom far from my cell phone. In her message, Nurse Space Cadet cheerfully informed me that we'd be calling today Cycle Day 1, that I could start my 25 mg of Clomid on Wednesday, and that I should call back to schedule monitoring for March 17 (day 12).

Did you catch all the mistakes in that last sentence, kiddies?

(1) Dr. Quixotic put me on Clomid for Days 5-9, not Days 3-7. I realize that both of those are medically acceptable, but he went with the 5-9 protocol. I don't know all of his reasons, but I'm guessing the whole mikvah thing is playing a role here. if I'm going to ovulate, I'd like to have some sperm in place to get the paty going, know what I mean? Shouldn't the starting day be in my file?

(2) First Nurse told me a couple of weeks ago that Dr. Q approved my request to go up to 50 mg. Considering that 25 mg is an unusually low starting dose (the one Dr. Q originally prescribed for me, though even he had wanted to do 50 mg at first and went back and forth a bit at our appointment), Nurse Space Cadet must have looked at my file in order to come up with that number. If she did so, shouldn't she have seen a notation changing the dosage? If such a notation wasn't there, does that make the other nurse the space cadet?

(3) Dr. Q said in-clinic monitoring would begin on Day 14, not Day 12.

I called the clinic right back, and luckily Spacey was still there. Over the course of the phone call it came out that this was her eigth straight day at work, and she was eager to get the hell out of there and take her well-deserved two days off. So, I feel a little bad about the nickname, but I'm fresh out of better ideas. Anyway, I cleared up the dosage and starting day issues (which resulted in a little giggling at her end, but whatever) and let issue #3 slide because, hey, why not start peeking in on my ovaries a little early?

After much paper-shuffling, Spacey found my bloodwork results. I'm negative on everything that should be negative (STDs, Hep B & C) and immune to rubella and chicken pox (we had a little chat about the nasty case I got as a little kid). She put me on hold for several long minutes while she looked for the results of my genetic screening, only to tell me afterwards that the lab was going to fax the results over and she's have to call me back. The call came on my ride home, and I was delighted to learn via voicemail that I am not a carrier for any of the yucky Ashkenazi Jewish genetic diseases. This means that Ezra can avoid another round with the needle. Lucky guy.

Nothing terribly exciting, all told, but I came up with a name for another character in the The Play Of My Life, and she needs a back story, so...there you have it.

* If this sentence read like gibberish to you, I'm sorry. Here's the quick-and-dirty.