Not that anyone’s grading me, but in my on mind at least, I passed an inital hurdle in the in-vitro fertilization race. Based on results from Tuesday’s ultrasound, I have seven measurable follicles at decent sizes (three at 12 mm, two at 11, two at 10 and a lot of small ones) to keep the cycle going. It’s been my biggest fear that the $350 in prescription drugs and the past five days of shots to the gut would suddenly end in a canceled cycle. But today is cycle day seven, and we’re still on.

About those follicles: Everyone who ovulates does so because of an egg that matures inside a follicle before popping out in anticipation of a sperm hookup. My injectable medications have given me super-powered ovaries that have produced more than the typical one or two follicles that would ordinarily lead to one or two eggs. Mature follicles tend to measure about 18 mm. When I did the intrauterine inseminations, 18 mm meant it was time for a “trigger shot” of Ovidrel, an injection that encourages ovulation. I’ll still get the Ovidrel with in-vitro fertilization; it’ll just be exactly 36 hours before the retrieval.

That would be shot No. 4. But that one, I can handle. It’s that doggone Ganirelix that is most certainly from the devil. It burned after the Mr. injected me and left a bruise that is painful to the touch. I walked around work with my pants down, covered by my jacket. So far, it’s the worst thing that has happened in the process, and it’ll happen again — every morning until … Crap, I don’t know when it’ll stop.

All I can do is follow the advice of a diabetic friend with 15 years of needle experience and consider the pain an offering commemorating Christ’s ultimate sacrifice. It sounded trite when she first said it, but given the hell of this Ganirelix shot, it’s gon’ take Jesus, the 12 disciples and Rufus to take this devil down.

Next ultrasound and blood draw: Thursday.