There was a time when I was an aspiring fiction writer. I had some very modest success (i.e. no one has never heard of me) but once the toddler was born, I didn't have time to write. Nor did I want to, I had my own personal happy ending to enjoy.
I hope to go back to it someday, but that is not the point of this post.
The point is, I like to write Fantasy. Some Sci Fi. Those are my genres.
One of my books has some Druids and I found out that there was a local Druid Council in my area.
So I went to see what they were about, to find out if there was anything I could glean from the Real Deal for my book.
This happened to coincide with the day I had a serious reaction to Clomid.
We had just started infertility treatments and the first line treatment was Clomid.
Clomid is usually well tolerated and leads to pregnancy all the time.
In my body?
I may as well have smoked some crack and done meth.
I took a cat nap before leaving and when I woke up, my vision was blurry. Really blurry. As in, all I could see were blobs of color. Also known as for-the-love-of-God-don't-drive blurry.
Blinking madly cured the worst of it, leaving me dizzy and really disoriented. I could see for the most part, but the world was still carnival mirror warped.
Unfortunately, I was so high, I didn't know I was high.
So, of course, off I drove to meet the Druids. Swerving all over the place to keep up with all the fast changing curves in the road.
Note: The curves were a hallucination/visual disturbance.
I made it there in one piece, but began to realize maybe something was a little off when I couldn't walk without lurching like a drunkard.
As weird as the Druids were, I was higher. I was SO dizzy.
I had no idea what to do. I didn't know these people. They were a little wary of me (and I them) and I wasn't sure how well an announcement of "Duuuuudes, I am SO high right now, but it's okay because it's prescription fertility drugs" would go over.
So I just faked it 'til I made it. Smiled, perhaps a little too widely. Drank from the communal cup. Chanted the chant. Drummed the drum. Then sat in my car for a looooong while after their meeting adjourned before timidly driving home once the road appeared to be mostly straight.
And that is the story of how I came to learn I could never take Clomid ever again.
It never made me ovulate, but it did make me weirder than a Druid.
(Actually, Druidism is kind of interesting as a religion. As far as paganism goes, it's very cerebral. I didn't get much out of my in-person research--too high--but I learned a lot from reading and they are an interesting group. If I wasn't a preacher's kid...I might've been a Druid.)
Should I Get a Second Opinion?
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