Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Hurry Up and Freeze

The awesome nurses and staff at my fertility office decided to try and save us some money. This is greatly appreciated considering we now have the names and amounts of our credit cards posted on the refrigerator as a constant reminder there will be no Christmas this year.
Instead of all the shots and pills arriving at our doorstep in one box, my nurse ordered several less expensive types of medicine that would arrive in stages. The biggest difference was that these shots needed to be refrigerated.
While they were less expensive, they weren't something you would set on the counter and forget about like non-organic milk. I had to be very careful to schedule their delivery accordingly. So I ordered the first box's arrival time on the day we came home from LA after Thanksgiving and the second for several days later when I knew one of us could be home. I had it on my calendar, David's calendar, and even in my neighbor's calendar (in case our flight was late and she had to come get the goodness off our doorstep). NO WAY would these cute little vials of fertility goodness get lost or go without the loving embrace of my refrigerator for any longer than they had to.
When we landed in Dallas for our layover, we were late. I texted our neighbor to ensure "the duck had landed" and that "the duck was in their fridge". She didn't respond. David texted her husband. No answer. Finally, we both called them. Their phones were off. HAD THEY STOLEN THE FERTILITY GOODNESS TO SELL ON THE BLACK MARKET?! Clearly, this was the only answer. And the moment I realized our neighbors were attempting to thwart our plans for a child, the flight attendant told us to put our phones away. BUT OUR NEIGHBORS ARE STEALING OUR BABIES!!!
It was a long 3 hours while I sat and prayed that our neighbors hadn't killed "the duck" by leaving it out in the "sunshine". (Too many quotations? I'm just getting started.) Oh please, Lord, save the fertility goodness from our evil and untrustworthy neighbors who turned off our sprinklers for us after they got stuck in the "on" position while we were in Europe and saved us hundreds of dollars from the Jacksonville Electric Authority. They were obviously thieves.
When we landed I immediately turned my phone on. Text message. Crisis averted. The duck had landed and it was safe in their fridge. Trust restored. Do you love how I overreact? Dave does.
The second box was due at 4pm on a Friday. I was at my mom's house so I asked David to stay home. He did and waited patiently for the box to arrive. 4pm. 4:15pm. 4:30pm. No worries, I'm sure they're just running a little behind with all the other POTENTIALLY LIFE CHANGING DELIVERIES.
4:45pm. 5:00pm. 5:15pm. Finally, David had to leave the house to go to dinner. You can imagine the panic. What if the drugs arrived right after he left and sat outside for 6 hours and killed all the baby-making goodness? Then we would have to re-order them using the money we would make from selling our kidneys on the black market, because how else are we going to pay for more of these drugs?! I called the pharmacy in charge of shipping. A tiger of a representative went after an unnamed package delivery service (not UPS, or USPS, or DHL, but...). She told them I was diabetic and needed the insulin that was in the package delivered to me immediately. (Hehe!)
As it turns out, the package was delivered to the wrong house on the other side of town because the driver was "new" and didn't know the "route" or how to read "addresses" on "homes". Well, you should have heard the pharmacy rep really REP her a new one (let me have that ONE pun). Luckily, the people who received our package noticed that they didn't need any fertility drugs that day, and kindly returned the package! My pharmacy rep insisted the driver go back out there after hours, pick it up, and then re-deliver it to me with plenty of time to spare for injections. This seemed an impossible task, as the driver was back in her comfy home for the night, assuming she was able to find it what with all those pesky numbers on her mailbox and street signs getting in the way. The two argued until finally I suggested they just deliver the package the next day. This sort of negated the whole "diabetic" argument, but at that point I just wanted my baby-makers home safe. All parties agreed and, in fact, the "package" was delivered "safely" to my "porch" the next day.
Maybe they should be renamed Fed Ups. Oops, did I give it away?

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