I saw Christine's post down below and at first glance thought it was going to be something like the following. Then, of course, my mind began to race and I had to create the following. It was going to be short but it took on a life of its own
Anyway...here is the product of my last hour at the office (my boss will be so proud!)...
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE IUI
Twas the night before IUI and at the midnight chime;
Not a spermatozoa was stirring, it was not yet time;
The sterile cup was set out on the counter with care;
In the hopes that many contents soon would be there;
The eggs were curled up all snug in their follie-beds,
While visions of tube travel danced in their heads,
And me in my kerchief and DH in his cap;
Had just settled down for a pre-IUI nap;
When over on my dresser there arose such a clatter;
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter;
The alarm clock was howling, not a simple chime;
It was screeching and shouting, now it’s time, now it’s time;
Poor DH had stumbled to the bathroom and shower;
Not eager to perform at this dark, pre-dawn hour;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear;
My DH, jar in hand, with a grin ear to ear;
With DH as driver, so lively and quick;
We sped to the clinic on roads that were slick;
More rapid than eagles the lab techs became;
As they whistled and shouted and called out our names;
Mrs. Jones, Mr. Jones, your sample, your sample;
Is it labeled? Is it warm? Did you make the one-hour scramble?
Sign your names, leave your jar, please hurry but don’t fall;
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all;
Suddenly outside with no more reason to rush;
We noted the sunrise and the world was all hushed;
We looked at each other, no more fuss no more shock;
Let us now go eat breakfast, and I mean eat a lot;
Upon return to the clinic, so full we could burst;
We sat in a crowd, thinking "please, pick me first”;
Before I could blink I was disrobed and in bed;
With a sheet covering “things” and my knees overhead;
My doctor appeared dressed in white head to foot;
With my chart in his hand scribbling ink dark as soot;
As he flipped, read, and reread far more than he should;
My mind and heart raced, is it bad? Is it good?
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work;
Filling tubes, clicking instruments doing his best not to hurt;
Then, laying his finger aside of his nose;
And giving a nod, from his stool he arose;
He sprang to the door, to his nurses he called;
And away they all flew down the clean, shiny hall;
But I heard him exclaim as he rushed out of sight;
Will it work? Will it work? Well I think it just might!
Early Merry Christmas All!!!
Susan (SAS)
