Health Goddess

Eggnoids, out

So the eggnoids have been taken out of my plumbing and are currently frolicking in a petri dish somewhere with the sperm boys, with one hand holding on to a margarita.

Unfortunately, no such luck for me. The sedation wasn’t very kind to me and I slept most of yesterday away. Woke up with terrible cramps and had to pop painkillers. Gah. Am still walking around like the hunchback of Notre Dame and probably look it too.

V v sad. No longer am I Fabulously Gorgeous.

Appetite still hasn’t returned and am v depressed thinking of all the food that I want to eat but can’t.

O, juicy Shashlik steak! I wouldn’t mind getting grumpy Hainanese uncles dumping a dollop of sour cream on my table just to sink my teeth into your meaty bits (true story, uncle missed my bowl while scooping the sour cream into my bowl of goulash and chucked in on my placemat without his dour expression changing. I thought it was hilarious, while normally I would have been pissed off).

Will write more when I can sit up straight. Also, need to wipe cat puke off floor, idiot cat insists on eating my plants and going all bulimic on me after that. Curses.

Health Goddess

A very Sob story

You know those stories which start with “once upon and time” and end with “and they all live happily ever after”? Hah! Lies! This is not one of those I feel pretty and witty and bright posts. It’s more I feel pukey and shitty and frightful.

I haven’t had an appetite since I started shooting myself up with hormones. (Sidenote: I’ll bet that recreational drugs cost half as much as my jabs do and I’ll even get high for the money that I pay! Now, I just feel blah and miserable. WORST DEAL OF THE CENTURY.) This lack of appetite thing is v distressing for someone like me who lives to eat. Fried carrot cake! Nah. Hokkien mee! Sorry. Bak chor mee! Erm, no. O, taste buds, where have you gone?


And to compound matters, my stomach doesn’t like those extra hormones either, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. So I’m either nauseous or hurling out what’s left in my tummy (answer: nothing much) into the toilet bowl. This was what happened to me on polling day. Mr Thick and I were parked in front of the TV in the living room while I shuffled back and forth into the bathroom either to pee or to dry heave into the bowl. And just before the result for Aljunied was announced, I finally did a Merlion.


A quick fling with the vajayjay cam on Friday – very wham, bam, thank you ma’am it was – showed that my ovaries had sprouted more follicles. Now, they are the proud mamas of 20 follies, big and small! Well done, my darlings! No wonder I feel like SHIT. Dr Y (who is very handsome and cool and clever – if he is reading this) says that I am at risk for OHSS and tells me to eat more proteins and down more H2O.

Except. I am so bloody sick of eating egg whites! Every morning, my routine looks like this: wake up, jab, prepare a three-course Gourmet Protein Delight meal of half-boiled/boiled/fried egg whites (four to five), protein shake and protein-fied Milo. And my friends on the Internetz, let me offer you a piece of sage advice:

Egg white in any form still tastes like bloody sodding egg white.


Are you bored yet? Me too. Well then, here are some exciting news: the eggnoids are getting picked up on Tuesday! It feels too fast but well, it appears that these follies of mine are uber competitive. Hmm, wonder where they get that from, as am v laid-back and demure.

In the meantime, I am relying on the Dalton Academy Warblers to keep my spirits up as I try to placate my sulky tummy.

(PS How adorable is Darren Criss! Yums.)

Health Goddess

Lefty and righty

My left ovary is complaining.

Poor thing, really, this wasn’t any of their faults but they have had to work doubly hard. No, make that 10 times as hard.

See, in a normal cycle, the two ovaries only need to grow one egg to be released. Sure, there are other competing follicles to nurture but it’s not hardcore like this. It’s more like, we’ll grow a few and see who gets to burst out first la dee da.

On Tuesday afternoon, after four days of daily 250iu of Puregon jabs, the vajayjay camera showed that there were about 10 to 12 follicles growing in there. And no prizes for guessing which ovary has been putting in extra time. No wonder Lefty has been so pissed off with me. Every night before I go to bed, Lefty has a tendency to pummel me from inside. Ah don’t like this! yells Lefty. Ah wanna talk to mah union now! Ah am overworked!


But it’s apparently all good. Dr Y is v pleased with himself for predicting the right dosage of Puregon to use. Oh, did I tell you that we opted to stick with him? Yeah. We are eating bread for our dinners for the next six months. Anyhow, he seemed pretty happy with the 12 follicles and their sizes.

In his own words, I am so glad you didn’t explode with follicles.


In fact, so happy is he with the prognosis thus far that he has decided I need to be jabbed TWICE. While the follicles are slowly reaching adulthood, I need to ensure that they stay put until the egg retrieval. So jab #2 is to prevent the follicles from spontaneously ovulating. Fun times.

This kid is SO going to OWE me for the rest of his/her life.
I mean, I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since…forever! And I have been craving Rosemount O! And Hoegaarden!

But thankfully, the jabs have been going well. It’s a bit unnerving to see the needles pierce through my skin like a hot knife through butter and truth be told, it does sting. But the pain is nothing like I had imagined, it’s been much more tolerable than expected. It’s no tea with jam and bread but it’s fine. And -touch wood- I haven’t hit a capillary yet and there are no bruises marring my tummy.

Besides the intense fatigue and my lack of appetite these days, the side effects have been minimal. Yes, I sometimes look like I have had too much to eat at the buffet table but it’s not permanent. Phew.

Most importantly, am still Fabulously Gorgeous!

Friday is scan number two, we’ll see how these little follicles of mine develop.

Good ovaries! Grow babies grow! ♥