In less than a month, I’ll be on a plane to Kenya. I’ve traveled with my family the past few summers, but we have house details and home visits and an important video to shoot with a local church that has chosen Mercy House for their 2013 Advent Conspiracy, so I’m going earlier with a photographer friend of mine.
Ever since I nearly accidentally died (remember that?) of kidney failure the day before our family was supposed to fly to Africa (and had to postpone our family trip in 2011), I like to get checked out before I travel. Mainly, because I WANT TO LIVE. While the kidney issue was a freak medical mystery, I did suffer a bit of permanent kidney damage, so I have blood work done four times a year.
Plus, I’m dealing with some dental issues that I don’t want to become an issue while I’m on the other side of the globe…also on my list: a mole check and a mammogram. THIS IS 40.
At my doctor’s visit a few weeks ago, lab results showed I was in great health. Except. My B12 was very low, which can lead to anemia and other things that are scary. Google always gives me cancer, so I try to avoid it. My doctor nonchalantly said, “You can give yourself an injection, right?”
Clearly, she knows me not. And also, I’m a liar because I said, “sure.”
When the pharmacist handed over needles 2 inches long, this should have been my first clue. He said the injection had to be intramuscular which is code for THIS WILL CAUSE PAIN. The prescription said I was to give myself a shot three days in a row and then once a week for six months.
I brought the medicine home and handed it over to my husband who was confidant he could give me injections. I felt good about l until I caught him watching a HOW TO GIVE AN INJECTION VIDEO ON THE YOUTUBE. He backed me into a corner and when he saw fear in my eyes, he said, “It’s not like you’ve never had a shot.”
To which I replied, “And it’s not like you’ve ever given me one!”
He stuck me in the arm and then said, “I think your thigh would be better.” I’m not kidding. I should have run at that point. He slowly inserted it into my leg and OH, THE BURN. I squinted my eye open and saw half the medicine running down my leg.
Well, that wasn’t in the video.
He mumbled something about a faulty syringe and I limped away. Later I visited with a pharmacist for pointers. Her diagnosis: USER ERROR.
I texted my hubby a picture of the enormous bruise on my thigh and he said he was never trying that again, even with pharmacist’s tips. So, I asked a dear nursing friend to come over and give me shots. You know in my spare time.
AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THIS.
Last week I sat in a dental chair for 3 hours with my mouth pried open. Nightmare. I left with two crowns because apparently one crown isn’t enough for this queen. Oh, and The Laughing Gas. Totally worth the upgrade. Apparently, I’m hilarious high because I asked if I could take a tank of the gas home with me. Who knew?
Later this week, I’m heading back to deal with ancient leaking fillings and a root canal. Because I like paying for my dentist’s summer vacation.
While my hubby was with the kids, he texted me this special sentence: “the cat just knocked over the fish tank. The fish has a broken back. We are watching it, but it will probably die in a few hours.”
My response: Go ahead and flush it.
AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT.
Somes days you’ve just got to laugh!