I'm not sure where my squeamishness comes from, but I totally hate medical procedures. I did well in high school, but somewhere in the time period, I began hating seeing a doctor.
No choice yesterday. Had to be cut open so a fiber could be inserted in my thigh up into my groin. Joy. Nothing like feeling like someone kicked you in the....
and I tried to use humor to get by. I kept talking to them telling them I was sorry for my sweating, and sorry for my nerves, and sorry that my veins are popping out, and sorry for the universe.
They turned on the television to distract me. It was 1 p.m. and I yelled, "No, I can't take Days of Our Lives right now. You have no idea how this show will freak me out. I will imagine my mom watching her soap and then laughing at me for how I behave at the doctors. Change the channel."
They did. I watched a cooking show, and wasn't amused by sizzling steaks or porkchops. Too close to human flesh and meat in my opinion.
Needless to say, part two of four is over. Part three on Thursday. Part four on Friday. Yuck. And tonight I teach, after a month of losing a dear friend, having a root canal, and crashing my car. Fa la la la la la la la.
I even sang, "I've got a great pair of legs and it shows..." to the nurses as they were fitting me in my stocking. I think one of them chuckled.
I couldn't never do what they do for a living. Nope.
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