Really? That sounds gross to you? Does it? Really?

This morning I went to the hospital for what I thought was going to be a quick in-and-out visit for a cortisone injection.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

So… I slip into my super sexy hospital gown and lay my hot stuff down on the cold hard table-bed thingy, where the assistant, who incidentally, and without any exaggeration, looks pretty much exactly like THIS covers me in a snuggly lead blanket.

All this after (of course) being asked if it’s possible that I might be pregnant. I guess my reputation precedes me because she dropped it the minute I snarled at her.

The doctor arrives and explains the potential complications of the coming procedure, which honestly I found a bit much for an injection but hey.

Doctor: The first complication is blood
Me: Like internal bleeding??
Doctor: No, like blood drops. Like with any needle. Needles are sharp (I am not making this up people) and they poke you when they are injected into your skin so sometimes there are drops of blood.
Me: Good stuff buddy. Next?
Doctor: The second potential complication is infection.
Me: Why?
Doctor: Well because anytime a needle or anything enters your skin it can push contaminants inside that can become infection.
Me: Um… is this the same risk as with any injection or routine blood tests? Like the ones I have almost every month of my life? The ones where nurses never warn me that I might get infected?
Doctor: Er… yes.
Me: Cool. Thanks for the heads up.
Doctor: The third possible complication could be allergy to the iodine.
Me: Uh… What iodine?
Doctor: The iodine I’m going to inject before the medication.
Me: Uh…
Doctor: As a dye, to show if the needle is in the right place.
Me: I see. And how will we know if I am allergic to it?
Doctor: Well hopefully you’re not.
Me: Right.

I signed the consent form.

First there was a smallish injection of pain killer.

Second is a GIANT needle that goes in ever so slooooooooooooooowly and wiggles around until you’re sufficiently nauseous.

This goes on for about half of forever and triggers an unforeseen panic attack on my part. Why? I do not know but the same thing happened two years ago when I had a central line put it.

I can handle any pain.

I sliced my hand open once – Took a deep breath, wrapped my hand in a dishtowel and called out to my husband in the other room,

“I have to run out and grab something babe, I’ll be back in a bit!”

and walked calmly to the nearest clinic to ask for stitches.

I’m a trouper.

I birthed 3 children without even so much as a Tylenol.

Got pain? Bring it the hell on bitches.

But for some freakish reason I CAN NOT stand laying around for hours at a time with giant tubes dangling out my arm from my heart with stiff instructions not to move a muscle “or you’re in danger of…”

OR

Monster sized needles hanging out of my shoulder with stern instructions to not even “breath too hard because it will move the needle and…”

So yeah. I panicked. I took deep breathes. I pictured all the wonderful things I’ll be able to do when I am healed. Painless yoga, Playing guitar, gracefully performing on stage etc…

That only worked for a second.

I tried imagining that Francois was there holding my hand.

If you haven’t ever had an anxiety attack I can’t really describe it, or the totally insane lack of control and honest fear for your life you experience while it’s happening.

Your brain releases the same chemicals as it would if you were say.. oh I don’t know, being chased by an angry bear. For example. So even if it doesn’t make any logical sense to jump off the hospital table and tear off like a bat out of hell, that’s the driving force that possesses you.

I channelled Louise Hay in my mind telling me “You are not a helpless victim of your own thoughts, but rather a master of your own mind.” and “I am in the right place at the right time, doing the right thing.”

Doctor: Miss Chapman your legs are shaking. It’s very important that you stay still please..

I imagined Rodney Yee talking me through a difficult yoga pose.

My breath quickened and I honestly got scared that I was going to tear the needle out of my arm and run.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Doctor: Don’t move, I’ll be back in a second…
Me: NO! please.
Doctor: Sorry?
Me: Please don’t leave the room. I’m feeling anxious and panicked and this is taking too long.
Doctor: Do you want me to leave you alone?
Me: I do not.
Nurse: Jennifer are you okay?
Me: I feel panicked. Can you talk to me for a minute? …………………….. hello?

At which point the doctor calls in his supervisor.

“Is that good?”

“Nope, you’ve got to get right in there”

“I’m already at the bone”

“Well wiggle it a bit because you’ve got to get in there good”

Which surprisingly calms me. I have no explanation for that.

But seriously, am I the only person who has panic attacks on that table? They seemed really confused and unsure of how to deal with me.

Doctor: Miss Chapman I am having a very difficult time getting the needle in, which is good. This means your doctor’s diagnosis of Adhesive Capsulitis is probably correct.
Doctor: This is the first I’m hearing of it. I really don’t feel well. Do you think we could speed this up a little?

“Doctor, you’ve got it now. you’re in.”

Doctor: Okay, we’ve got the good spot. I’m injecting the medication now. Cortizone, then Prednisone, then a pain killer.

Me: Good stuff, let’s get her done.

Doctor: Not too quickly though, I have to go slowly.

Doctor: Of course you do. It’s jafeiwha What the fuck? Fuck! Fuck. What? Somethings… arearfaaggg! Ug. Oh god. (which is pretty much how I sound having an orgasm so I totally get why he just sat there smiling as though NOTHING weird was going on at all and just casually enquired…

Doctor: Does it feel like your shoulder is being dislocated?

Me: I’m going to puke. I’m serious.

Doctor: Like your shoulder is being pulled out of the socket?

Me: YES FUCK! If having your shoulder dislocated feels like birthing an elephant out of your fucking armpit. What the hell are you doing?

My hand and arm were being pinned down by a three thousand pound sand bag.The tendons or muscles in my shoulder and upper arm were seemingly contracting and convulsing and attempting an aggressive escape from the flesh that surrounds them.

Have any of you seen Alien?

Doctor: Oh, good. That means it’s working!

He smiled from ear to ear.

Me: Fucking hell… Do you think you might of mentioned this when you were blabbering about blood drops and Shit? Gladsfaskdahsfgh!

Doctor: All done Miss Chapman. Good job. You can go get dressed now.

My whole body was trembling violently. I could barely see straight let alone stand up to get dressed.

Doctor: See you next time!

Me: Yeah. Let’s never see each other again, shall we?

Doctor: Oh, ha ha. It rarely only takes one injection. Usually two or three. We’ll see each other again.

Me: Not without Vicodin we wont.

And I lived to tell you all about it.
Go team.