Yesterday, I followed two Viking warriors into town. They were evidently off-duty, because they were carrying their helmets and daggers with them in carrier bags; one of them was on his mobile phone, while the other was drinking a cup of takeout coffee. Eventually, I turned off the main street to go to the acupuncture clinic, while the Vikings continued on into the centre of York - possibly to rape and pillage, but more likely to entertain the vast queues of school children waiting to visit the Jorvik Centre.
At the acupuncture clinic, I saw the Chinese Fertility Goddess, who is now back from her holidays. She listened to my pulse and looked at my tongue, before pronouncing her opinion to a hushed and reverential group of students. I'm not sure whether I understood exactly what she said - something about liver qi stagnation and blood stasis, perhaps? - but she did pick up on the fact that the pulse in my left wrist was much fainter than that in my right. When I mentioned the fact that my left ovary had not responded to the Menopur, she didn't look at all surprised, and promptly stuck two needles in its vicinity - when she put them in, a great pain shot round to the back of my body. I also had needles in the crooks of both my knees, on both calves, my right foot and my left wrist, all of which were designed to encourage the qi to flow more freely around my body. The CFG warned me that I would feel very tired and emotional after the treatment, and I did indeed have to have a sleep yesterday afternoon.
But when I got back from town, I discovered that the bread maker had arrived. So now, I may not have a bun in the oven (is that a uniquely British colloquialism for pregnancy?), but I do at least have a loaf in the bread maker!