If all were right with the world, I would visit the washroom at some point today to find that I had hit the surf to catch some Crimson Wave heavies. (For those of you who didn�t get that last bit, you�re probably not a woman. Or a surfer dude. So never mind).

But all is not right with the world, for I am a defective with a barren womb. Right now and for the last 10 days, I have been mentally encased in a cloud of cotton balls until July 15 rolls around. At that time I shall bear the crook of my left arm to the world (or the nurse at my lab) and find out if I�m up the duff.

Of course, if I find a little something extra when I pop in to use the loo it�s all moo. Like a cow�s opinion. So I�m sure you can understand my trepidation when it comes to eating and drinking today. The less I have to�..expel, the better my odds of not getting some bad news.

Sorry, did you just say I needed to seek HELP or were you toasting to my good HEALTH? I didn�t quite catch that.

And you know, as much as I whine about the pain and inconvenience of the daily shots and how it makes people cross the street and screen their calls to keep away from me when I�m in the middle of a cycle and how I would never, ever, ever go through a follicle retrieval again, I know deep down inside that I�m not going to quit doing this until someone stops me.

Preferably a small, intelligent, wailing child with my last name, a wicked sense of humour and a tendency to sleep like the dead.

Posted at 5:51 p.m.