This weekend has had me both wanting to kill and feeling like I'd been killed.
I took Friday off work to go to my doctor's appointment, since I missed it earlier in the week. I called ahead of time to see if it would be okay to bring my shot with me and have the nurse there give it to me. I figured it would be easiest and gets that out of the way. I wouldnt have to worry about getting it later.
First, I had to listen to the nurse tell me about how I need to be a big girl and learn to give my shot to myself. Big girl? Most people wouldnt be able to do it themselves. The fact that I cant doest make me any less of an adult or any more of a child...it makes me human.
Then, what came next made me realize that Nurse Wratchet probably shouldnt even have a license to practice medicine. I have a tendancy to look away when I am gettimg my shot...a human characteristic. But when she was giving me my shot, it felt a little different. It didnt hurt, it just felt different. So I peaked down...and this is when I wwent PSYCHO. I said, "This is an IM injection." She says, "You didnt tell me." I then respond, still tryng to maintain calmness, "I shouldnt have to tell you, the needle should. A subcoutanous injection has a needle length of 1/2 inch...an IM injection is 2 1/2 inches." She then softly says, "I'll get your doctor in a minute." To which, I screamed, "Get my doctor NOW!!!" And she did!
My doctor came in and attempted to calm me down. He assured me that I would live. I just had to go home and keep an eye on the injection site for a reaction...either a hot to touch feeling or a hard knot. With that I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. You see, my shot is an IM injection meaning that it has to be injected in a muscle, normally in my upper thigh. But what she did what was is called a sub-Q injection, into the skin. It took all I had not to flip her off on my way out. I was so ready to go all David Banner/Incredible Hulk on her ass. She was on the phone in the receptionist's office when I left. She was probably calling the FDA to make sure she didnt just kill someone.
So i got into my car and started bawling. I couldnt even drive for a good 20 mins because I was so upset. When I got home, I called the nurse from the medication company just for reassurance. I really needed it.
Later on I went out and that was were my second mistake was. I hadnt eaten anything all day but Tylenol after Tylenol. So Matt took me to go eat something. We got food, but I couldnt even eat half of it. On the way back home, I stoppped at the store and he ran in. I hadnt been feeling any better, so I rested my head on the door. I remembered thinking, "Its good that I took home the half that I didnt eat, bacause I am so going to throw up when I get home and I'll be glad that I have this to eat." And with that thought, I turned my head and couldnt find a bag fast enough. It was bad. Whan Matt got back to car, I had shit all over my face and down my shirt and I was holding this plastic bag. All I could say was, "I need to go home now."
That was my weekend. Arent you all jealous?