Pausing for Six Months

Today was both my husband’s birthday and the scheduling of my first Lupron shot.

When Dr. N suggested that we do this treatment, I asked her what the side effects would be. Dr. N doesn’t mess around with the negatives; she lays it out in the worst possible scenario possible. She did this for the surgery, so I was a little used to it. (She was discussing the risks of the surgery, and said “Well, first of all, I could cut an artery. That would be a disaster. You’d be bleeding all over the place, we’d transfer you to the hospital in an ambulance, and your life would be changed forever.” Ok, so there’s a possibility.)

About Lupron, she said, “Oh, it will be awful. You’re going to cry, have mood swings, get hot flashes, and hate your husband.”

So maybe starting this treatment on his birthday was odd timing.

Anyway, I had to go in to Dr. N’s office for the shot, but I wasn’t going to see her. I wasn’t terribly comfortable about this, as I still had some questions. I’d read on the interwebs that even though Lupron causes menopause (which literally means “end of all normal female sex life stuff”) some women still ovulate and have even become pregnant. We aren’t sure if or when we want a family, and I know that being on Lupron is not great for babies. So let’s make sure there’s no pregnancy happening in the next six months, ok?

Before I got in the room, I was reminded once again that many of Dr. N’s patients are not as hesitant on the baby thing as I am. Five pregnant women sat in the waiting room with me, and one of them parked her stroller in the stroller room. Not kidding, they have a stroller room. All of the magazines are baby-related. All. Of. Them. Not even a “Good Housekeeping” from 2007.

OK, so the nurse called me in, and I gave her my list of questions and was told Dr. N would call me later. Then the nurse told me to pull down my pants a little, turn around, and bend over. (Offer to buy a girl dinner first, geez!) She asked me which cheek I wanted it in, and I made a lame joke about not being right-butted or left-butted. She didn’t laugh, and I think she thought I was serious. But she did compliment my tramp stamp, so that’s something.

And then she said “You’ve had this shot before, right?” No, this is my first time. “Oh, well then this is going to hurt.” As my friend Dan said, they were putting three months of menopause into me, damn straight it was going to hurt. But I’ve been poked and prodded so many times during the past half year, I figured it would be fine. I was wrong.

Seriously wrong. Here’s the words and noises that happened next:

Nurse: OK, a poke and then a sting.
Me: Ok. That’s not bad.
(Sharp intake of breath)
Me: Oh, yeah, that hurts….Um, ouch. UM, hey, that hurts. (Lots of deep breaths while I stared at the table.)

About 15 minutes later, she took the needle out of my butt. Ok, maybe 15 seconds, but still. Day-um. That hurt. I’m pretty glad I don’t have another for three months.

Then I got a Snoopy band-aid on my left cheek, was promised the doc would call, and sent on my way.

Day One done, and I don’t hate my husband at all.