A Pain in my Ass and Other Obsecenities

I went to my doctor's office today to have my first progesterone shot. Most IVF women have their partners administer this intramuscular shot, but I chose to leave my loved ones out of it, largely because the instruction to insert the rather thick needle in the muscle of my upper outer buttock with a sharp, dart-like motion made me nervous. I didn't want to be anyone's guinea pig for this kind of stabbing.

The nurse had me lie down on my side, drew up the progesterone and did use the previously mentioned sharp-dart-like motion into my left "hip." (Hip is the euphemism of choice for upper outer buttock.)(If you are really interested, you can see the actual injection process by clicking on the Intramuscular Injection Lessons video at Village Fertility Pharmacy.) It felt like what I imagine a wasp sting might feel like. The pain dissipated after a moment, and I thought that was going to be it. I made plans with my husband and mother to go out to dinner after one last pre-transfer trip to the gym.

I went home and didn't think about it for a while. My mother was also feeling the stir-craziness I mentioned earlier today so she suggested we go to the local mall. It was three o'clock, and already getting dark. It was raining. None of these things were helping with my mood.
But for whatever reason, at 3 o'clock, roughly 5 hours after the shot, my left hip began to hurt. It started as an ache, as though I had done too many lunges, but by the time we go to the mall, it felt like someone had punched me. I could barely walk. I sat at a coffeeshop, drinking decaf for two hours, while my mother enjoyed some well-deserved time away from the house.
On the way home, my hip was throbbing. The GPS suggested, politely, that I take the highway instead of a regular road, and I screamed FUCK FUCK FUCK while laughing and crying simultaneously.

My mother was unusually quiet.

We pulled into the driveway at the same time as my husband, so I let him carry everything inside. Then I took off my raincoat, went into our room, and changed into the following outfit:

1. brown fleece pants
2. pink Ugg boots
3. red wool sweater
4. aqua cashmere robe
5. sheepskin-lined gloves

I was still cold. This may be a symptom of living in Oregon, and not a symptom of progesterone-in-oil.

Then I took two extra strength tylenol while my loved ones discussed the better method for supplying a heating pad.

My husband reminded me that I acted with the same level of crazy last time I went on progesterone. I have only the vaguest memory of this. Perhaps someone was slipping me some Versed.