Fun with Hypodermic Needles...

When we last left off, I was just being called in to the day surgery area for my nerve block/steroid injection. The nurse who retrieved me took off like a shot (no pun intended. Honest) for the changing room and was halfway down the hall before she realized I was limping along behind. First indication that there could be a problem: "Oh, I see you have a limp". "Yes. I thought I'd take it out for a spin today...". She giggled nervously. Now, at this point, I'm already so nervous that there is no saliva left in my mouth which, in turn means my upper lip is stuck to my front teeth and my hands are shaking. Did I respond inappropriately by giving her the barest of fake smiles in hopes of preventing my teeth from ripping four layers of skin off my lip?

Just a side note here. Nurses always give their names and even wear a name tag on their scrubs. Do you think I can remember a single nurses name from yesterday? That'd be a big Nope. At any rate, she introduced herself, showed me where I could get changed, handed me a "ball gown", the oh-so-fashionable slipper socks and a bag to put my belongings in. I swear to you she called it a ball gown.

Two things. First, thank God those slipper socks were extra large because I haven't been able to shave in ages and they did manage to cover up some of the gap between them and the Bob Mackey billowing about my legs. Second, she told me to put my stuff in a locker and bring her the key. As God is my witness, I do not recall handing her that key so it remained an added worry until after the procedure. Why didn't I just ask? Well, I believe I've already admitted to my unreasonable and extreme fear of needles so I was down to as little conversation as possible. Plus, just as I came out of the changing room, she explained to me that they would be putting in an IV.......

"Wait...What? Are you serious? Nobody told me about an IV. Look, this isn't a surgery!" I cried. Panic was increasing rapidly and this woman was the only hope I had for getting talked off the ledge. "Oh, I know, but we put one in 'just in case'" she said. One of my least favorite phrases ever - "Just in case". In case of what?! In case I start to bleed out at the injection site? In case they want to inject something funky through an IV? In case I pass out? In case the electricity cuts in the middle of the procedure? WHAT?!?!

"They hardly ever have to do anything with it....". Hold it right there, Missy. Lesson number 85 to any health care giver whose care I am in for even a millisecond: If 95% of people don't have an issue with something, you can be sure that I will be part of the other 5%. It's just how it goes in this rock and roll show...

Now she has me back at my bed and literally tells me to "...hop up on to the bed". The situation was deteriorating faster than an ice cube in H-E-Double-Toothpicks and they had yet to do anything.

Of course I asked her if she would numb my skin before placing the IV (a standard with me and I have happily waited a half hour for someone to be pulled from another facility to do just that). I've said it before and will say it again, I. Am. A. Giant. Sissy. "Look at that tattoo" she said. "How did you manage that if you're so scared of needles?". Don't ever let anyone tell you that getting a Tatt is like getting an injection. It's like comparing a mild hangover to passing a kidney stone.
"Well, it's just a Pediatric IV so..." I interrupted her to ask "Can you numb the skin or not?"
"I can if you want but..." "I want".
As she's preparing the IV she says "Ya know, most people come out of the procedure saying 'It really wasn't that bad'. In fact, I swear he does such a good job with the procedure just so he can ask them if it was as bad as the IV.........he's not someone you'd want to live with but he's definitely someone you want performing this procedure". She is blowing me out of the water at this point and I'm silently calculating how quickly I could "hop" out of the bed, down the hall, get my stuff and get the hell out of there. Seriously, I was considering leaving in the Johnny and Slipper Socks. 'I really don't care who sees my hairy legs at this point. Get. Me. Out.' Alas, I stayed. I really hate when the wrong personality is up to bat at times like those.

Aside from that mess, everything at that point, procedurally speaking, was going great and the IV was in. Emotionally, as you may have guessed, was a sequence of very different events that were pushing me closer and closer to the edge of my bed. One nurse explained the procedure like this:

"First, he'll numb your skin a little and, then, you'll feel...well, you won't feel it but some people say they can hear a 'Pop' when he starts the actual injection". My chin dropped and I referred her to rule number 85 again. Was she really telling me this in a syrupy voice because she thought it would make me feel better? I swear I was starting to hyperventilate but they asked me if I wanted a magazine (no thanks) and left me alone with my anxiety (for which I normally take meds but that was a no-no for this procedure). Barbarians.

Somewhere around a day later, another nurse came in, asked me a bunch of questions and explained the procedure again. She used phrases like "then he has to find the source of the pain with the needle" and "the medication does hurt as its going in but that doesn't last very long..." Lady, YOU are not going to last very long unless you get this show on the road. I didn't say that out loud but she must have recognized something in my eyes and complied.

After a short ride through the halls, she backed me in to the O.R. Why the O.R.? Since the Doc uses a "live" X-Ray to help guide the needle to the right place (just typing that made me feel like hurling) as well as to see where the contrast is showing up, the procedure takes place in the O.R.

The Doctor was already in the room and asked how I was. I told him what I told the 15 people before him who asked "Petrified". He acknowledged my fear of needles and said he would explain everything as he went and would try to keep me as comfortable as possible. Inadvertently, at this point, I threw the nurse directly under the bus. "She told me you're going to numb the site first". He shot a quick glare at the nurse and said "She told you about a different way of doing this procedure. I put everything in one injection, as we discussed yesterday". 'Oopsies - sorry lady whose name I can't remember'.

He had me roll from the bed I was on, to the Operating table which had a stack of three pillows on it. Since the X Ray machine is in the shape of a "C" that goes over and under the table, I had roughly a foot of clearance to roll over and "put your belly button right in the middle of these pillows" said the nurse. 'Oh sure, I thought, and for my next trick, I'll saw myself in half and pull a rabbit out of my....' nevermind. The reason these Barnum & Bailey's Circus Folk want you to do this is so that your back is in the best position for the injection. This meant I needed to be on all fours with my backside held high... Oh, gee, why didn't I think of that - it's so cozy and I don't feel at ALL vulnerable.... Truth be told, after giving some thought to how the spine works, it did make sense to me. Not that I had a choice, mind you, but still it was an ounce of much needed reassurance.

Figuring that I should play as fair as possible, I took this moment to announce that A) I had to pee and B) there was a very good chance I was going to scream and/or swear. The Doc must have spotted my cowardice because he asked if I could "...hold it because the procedure will be over so quickly". Grudgingly, I supposed I could. As for B), he said "That's fine. The only rule we have about swearing is, if you say something we don't understand, you have to explain it to us". "Oh no" I said. "Just the standard variety of four letter words. Sometimes, there's just no equal to a well placed F-Bomb."

Now the procedure. First, let me attempt to give you the road map he was going to navigate. The joint he was aiming for is the right Sacroiliac joint which is one of two that connect your pelvis to the bottom of your spine. Close your eyes for a second and just picture where you think that would be. As it turns out, the injection site was higher up and slightly off center to the right....Got it?

He thoroughly Betadyned my backside, and talked me through that in a very soft and slow, monosyllabic voice. Imagine Mr. Rogers voice but slowed waaaay down. Sort of like a 45 being played at 33 (for those of you who recall record players). Every time the man paused, I was expecting the next words to be something about the injection starting. This meant, every time he started to speak, my blood pressure went through the roof until he said something innocuous and I would breathe again. This probably only lasted roughly one minute but, to me, it was so long that I second guessed my decision about no magazine. Probably they wouldn't have let me have one at that point anyway but, now that I think of it, maybe they should do that to help distract a neurotic freak like myself. Anyway, there were things that needed to be prepped. For each step, I pictured the blood pressure cuff busting open and flying around the room like something in a cartoon.
"...and now...(insert flying cuff here)... I'm applying more Betadyne..." Oh Jesus.
"...and now...(another flying BP cuff)...I'm going to drape the site..." 'Okay,' I thought, 'the next one has to be it'....
"...and now...(there is now BP cuff air traffic control heard over the loud speaker)...I'm going to blot it a little". My non existent patience were wearing thin.
"....okay, now I'm going to start just at the site so we can get some Novocaine in there. And here it comes". I hissed an intake of air and squeezed the poor nurses hand for all she was worth. He waited a minute to let it numb up a little. Then came the fun part....
"....okay, now I'm going to make my way down to the SI joint.."
"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! $HIT!!!!" (Me, not him which, in retrospect, is a good thing).
"...okay, I want you to rate your pain on a scale of one to ten. One being minimal or no pain and ten being unbearable.."
"TEN!!!! TEN!!!"
"....okay, I need you to rate the pain first, for your lower back, second for your buttock and third for your leg"
"ARE YOU #&%KING KIDDING ME?!?! IT ALL HURTS!!!"
"...okay, ten across the board"
"...now I'm going to inject some more of the medicine..."
He did this four times. Each of those four times drew multiple F-bombs and Holy S-words which, by the way, I believe count as a prayer of sorts.
"You're doing great" the Nurse said. Why do they say stuff like that when there is absolutely no way you can haul off and beat them over the head? Wait. I just answered my own question. It's okay though, because I no longer felt bad for throwing her under the bus. Nor did I worry about how I was digging my nails in to her hand with each new pain. Oh, I said I was sorry....

Eventually, it did end and I was basically pain free for the first time in five months. I'll get back to that. While the nurse wheeled me from the O.R. to the recovery area, she said "You did great. See? It wasn't that bad". My only response as I wiped tears from my face was "It sucked". This same woman who before the procedure, told me it wasn't going to be bad at all now answered me with a sympathetic "I know". Someone fire her already for God sake.

That nurse handed me off to another nurse who asked the same question and got the same answer. "It sucked". "Oh, but you're not in pain now, right?" "Nope, you're right, no pain right now".

That nurse informed me that I'd have to wait 20 minutes before I could leave. She sent my daughter back to sit with me and checked my vitals every five minutes. Everything being okay, she brought my clothes and shoes to me. I got dressed as quickly as possible, ecstatic over feeling absolutely no pain whatsoever. I was like Grampa Joe from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, getting out of bed for the first time in 20 years. I wanted to do a jig like he did but, instead, walked (not gimped) down the hall past the Nurse's station where a hand full of nurses looked up and said "How'd it go? You look great!" "It sucked" I repeated. We all got a good chuckle out of that which was a good thing because I was still laughing when the nurse said "You get a free T-Shirt for coming in today!!" Seriously? I started looking around the room for hidden cameras but never broke stride as she handed me the t-shirt. I thanked her as my daughter and I made our way to the car where I immediately busted out the two percocet I had in a baggy in my coat pocket. "Let's go to Dunkin' Donuts so I can put food in my stomach and take these bad boys".

That's pretty much where the story ends except there will be an Epilogue to come tomorrow. I have people to thank and people to rake over the coals so stay tuned.....