Personal Preparedness

I was fully prepared for being crazy. I had mentally prepared myself for my possibility (even probability) that I was going to be a homicidal maniac, the psychotic Kali-esque holy hell terrorist that would wreak havoc on my home and office.

I was prepared. I would have beaten the odds. Because I was not going to use Clomid as an excuse to be evil. I am well aware of my temper, and I assumed the Clomid was going to exacerbate it....apparently that's not the case.

It never happened. I never once got too angry to control myself. That made me happy.

I was not, however, prepared for the mental fog that enveloped me. I couldn't even think most of the day. I kept walking to the back of the hospital from my desk, and forgetting why I went back there. (It's not a long walk...6 feet or so) I actually forgot what I was talking about once, in mid-sentence. I just stood there with a blank mind, and could help but think "Wait.....what?"

I was also not prepared for the tears. Aaah, the tears. The tears came multiple times today. The first time because Dr. P made a snarky comment toward me (which I don't even remember anymore, because I have a constant brain fart). The second time was at Casey's office. Why? He asked me for a goodbye kiss. Why did I start crying and hyperventilating? I'm not quite sure. I don't even remember what went through my mind until the end when I was thinking, "What the hell is wrong with me?!"

Let's not forget the pain, though I was prepared for that. I wasn't prepared for the intensity. Have you ever had an ovarian cyst? It feels like that, only BIGGER. And MORE of it. It really hurts. But it's not constant, it comes in stabbing spurts that actually make me cry out because there's no warning.

Waah waah waah. Whine whine whine. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

I consider Day One a success. :)