Cancelled

Picture this:

You’ve had a long, intense, crazy day at work. You leave the office early when you should be staying late just so you can make it to your appointment with the dildo cam and score some clomid.

It’s the hottest day of the year so far. The car tells you it’s 91 degrees. You’re wearing a suit.

You are on the worst day of your period. The cramps are awful and the bleeding is… Enthusiastic. Between that and the heat, you feel like a cooked ham.

You arrive at the fertility clinic to find that their air conditioning is out. It’s stifling. No air whatsoever.

You are asked to ditch the tampon and disrobe from the waist down.

You sit on a thin sheet of paper covering a vinyl table and wait. And sweat. And bleed. And wait. And wait sweat bleed.

You are miserable. And stuck to that fucking sheet of paper.

The doctor finally arrives and proceeds with the ultrasound. Left ovary, check. Right ovary? Cyst. 18mm fucking cyst.

No clomid for you. Cycle cancelled. You’re back to waiting another month(ish?) until your ovaries are (hopefully) cyst free.

And you got to pay $270 for the pleasure of this fantastic experience.

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