One last chance

We have one more chance to get this show on the road by ourselves before I go in for an HSG and start with the medical intervention.
All I wanted was a goddamned SA. Not too much to ask, right?
I think they need to change their protocols. We KNOW I am Oing. How strong, etc, we don't know exactly, but as far as we know, I a Oing regularly and my post O levels look good. So, would you not think that their next plan of attack would be to find out if the Husband is in working order?
Well, you'd think so.
But no.
First I have to get blood taken, so my arms look like I was beaten with an orange in a sock (who knew I bruised so easily), then I have to be violated by an ultrasound "wand" (there's nothing magical about that, lemme tell you). Then I have to have a foreign substance (in the form of, what I assume is radio-reactive, dye) jammed through my tubes. All this fun stuff that I have to endure before all he needs to do is HAVE SOME DIRECTED FUN. Fill up a cup. Doing something he would do for kicks anyway.

There are so very many reasons to say "It's just not fair" when you are dealing with infertility, so please allow me:

It's Not Fair.

So, we have one more chance, one last cycle to make this work on our own.
I was guaranteed by a first-time-by-accident knocked up friend that all I needed to do was get drunk. Get my uterus inebriated and made easily accessible by the "foreign invaders".
I called her a douche.
She was serious.
She practically guaranteed me a pregnancy if I just got drunk. So, I am going to. I am going to get rip-roaring drunk. Fortunately, it just so happens to coincide with a friends Stag and Doe, so I will be drunk anyway.

One more chance.

Would it be too much to ask for some collective finger-crossing?

Pretty please?