Men are such babies about pain

I'm on IVF, a long and painful procedure involving surgery and lots of injections. But TH still manages upstage me in the whining stakes.

The night before my egg pick-up (day surgery), TH wakes me up. "My back hurts," he says. I'm bloated with hormones, my tubes hurt and my stomach is growling cos I am fasting before the op. But guess who gets the sympathy – and massage?

Am now on daily progesterone jabs. It's intramuscular so the needle is about 2" long. After the jabs, I can barely walk but I grit my teeth and limp to the bus-stop anyway.

I am lying prone in bed because my legs can't support me when TH pulls a muscle in his back – again. "Don't be such a baby," I tell him.

"It really hurts," he yells back. "Try having a little sympathy."

Sympathy? My back, insides, thighs, bum, tummy are torturing me at the same time. Don't talk to me about pain, mister.