Have I mentioned before how much I hate Dr. Bigshot?  Excuse me while I rant.

I just got a call from the tech telling me that they want me to stay on the 6 vials of Bravelle and the 1/2 dose of Antagon, but they want to up my dose of Menopur to 3 vials.  Which tells me that perhaps even the half-dose of Antagon slowed things down a bit more than they’d thought it would.  Ok, fine, glad they’re on top of it, etc.  Only thing is, Dr. Bigshot doesn’t want to see me until Sunday.  (And it will be Dr. Bigshot, she warned me.)

So tomorrow, I’m flying blind and hoping that this cycle doesn’t get entirely cocked up because he’s too bloody arrogant to deal with one more Saturday appointment.  Nevermind that I haven’t responded the way they’ve thought to ANY of the meds.  Nevermind that my doc has been watching me like a bloody hawk because of this, keeping me on an every-day-schedule since Tuesday.  No, Dr. Bigshot is going to skip a day – on the day he changes my meds.

I swear to dog, if this cycle goes overboard because of him I’m going to raise a stink you should be able to smell all the way across the country.  

Only good thing is that even if my retrieval happens on Tuesday, which is my doc’s day off, he’ll still be in the building and the nurse was pretty positive he’d still be doing my retrieval.  

Assuming I get to have a retrieval.  Assuming everything didn’t just take a turn for the rotten.