OK, so I did it, I went for the IV iron treatment I told you I was going for. This post is going to be a bit bo-ring and self indulgent....hmmmm. Now that I think of it, not that different from my usual posts so WTF am I apologizing for? If you're here on a regular, you are a glutton for punishment and I probably shouldn't feel guilty at all for being boring. I realize that I am telling you stuff that only a mother would care about so you are excused from reading this entry. I just feel like documenting this ordeal, k?
First of all , thank god it was Friday and I had someone with me. I went first thing in the morning and I am NOT a morning person at all. People, I dragged my tired ass to that office thinking it would probably be uneventful. I noticed that the Dr had some award as most respected by his peers in a New York Times article/survey. He was a helluva lot nicer and more personable today too so I'm guessing I got him on a bad day the last time and he's not the schlub that I initially thought he was. So, he brought me into the treatment room and pulled out the iron vials. He had to use two. My veins are notoriously difficult to find so he decided to use *drum roll*.............THE BACK OF MY HAND. Have you ever had a needle in the back of your hand? It hurts like a mofo. He made the decision to not do it by IV bag and to just inject it. BAD CHOICE. He took some of my blood and mixed it with the iron and re injected it. I know, ewwwwww! As I sat there and it started going in my hand itched like there were tiny teeth biting inside my veins. Then, my hand and arm started to cramp horribly. I mean so horribly to the point where I began to cry and believe me when I tell you when it comes to pain and pain tolerance, I am a Marine. Remember that scene in 40 y/o virgin where Steve Carell is getting his chest waxed and he screams out from the pain 'MMMM-AAAAHH! KELLY CLARKSON!" Yep, that is exactly what I felt like doing. I had kidney stones and took no drugs and stood it and this pain was more annoying than that. If it was the 1800's, I would be the type to get through a major surgery with nothing but a brandy soaked dirty rag crammed into my mouth and a metal pipe to grasp onto. I'm that good with pain, but this shit HURT. Next week, we are doing this by I.V bag. No more going into tiny veins in my hand.
Anyway, the Dr commented that he has never had anyone have these side effects before. Gee, thanks for making me feel like you believe me dude. Oh, except for an "elderly" gentleman who felt some itching but nothing else. So I said to him, "well, it appears that you have finally met the fabled princess who actually feels the pea under her mattress now, doesn't it?" With that, I went to a room to lay down and wait a bit to see if there were any more goodies in store for me. Unfortunately, the "Wendy Williams Show" was on the TV and this made things even worse. I hate that woman. She is a horrible, shrieking, overly dramatic tranny-esque woman. I cannot believe she has her own show. Her audience needs to be bitch slapped for being so "woot woot' enthusiastic too. The staff must ply them with sugar before filming starts because they are far too hyper for what is actually going on. My companion was supportive and held my hand and thankfully talked over Wendy and her "how to look like Michelle Obama" fashion show. The only thing that would have made this worse was Donny Osmond popping up as a guest so at least I'm grateful to him for staying away and giving me some peace. This experience served as a gentle reminder that I despise day time television and the whole "being up early" experience and always will.
I laid there and just as I thought it was all going away I began to feel pins and needles and a horrible prickling, stabby sensation in my feet. Then, it ran up my calves. That lasted for another hour. I came home and took a very long nap and woke up with my "middle" aching and hurting. And I had a headache. Good times. I made myself get up and eat since I hadn't had food since the day before and it was now about 3 pm. Yay for Fairway's broccoli rabe, sausage and peppers and garlic bread. I now feel almost human again.
Oh, and I was told that I need to get a medic alert bracelet because the blood test from the last visit showed that I have a rare genetic coagulation disorder and if I ever needed surgery I would probably need a transfusion if I didn't get a special injection to promote clotting prior to surgery. What a damned day!
The perfect ending to this perfect day involved going across the street and buying a cupcake at the Italian place that sells these HUGE gloriously beautiful cupcakes. I deserved it dammit. It was a cupcake day if ever there was one. That and a steamy cup of their maple milk. We will be back to our regularly scheduled programming in the next day or two and I will not be dedicating posts to my health woes unless something really big happens. I know you must be like WTF? What will she be telling us next? The size and shape of her poop? To that question Dear Reader I say, no, I will leave that to the poop obsessed Dr Oz. That seems to be his forte.
That's all for now! :)
First of all , thank god it was Friday and I had someone with me. I went first thing in the morning and I am NOT a morning person at all. People, I dragged my tired ass to that office thinking it would probably be uneventful. I noticed that the Dr had some award as most respected by his peers in a New York Times article/survey. He was a helluva lot nicer and more personable today too so I'm guessing I got him on a bad day the last time and he's not the schlub that I initially thought he was. So, he brought me into the treatment room and pulled out the iron vials. He had to use two. My veins are notoriously difficult to find so he decided to use *drum roll*.............THE BACK OF MY HAND. Have you ever had a needle in the back of your hand? It hurts like a mofo. He made the decision to not do it by IV bag and to just inject it. BAD CHOICE. He took some of my blood and mixed it with the iron and re injected it. I know, ewwwwww! As I sat there and it started going in my hand itched like there were tiny teeth biting inside my veins. Then, my hand and arm started to cramp horribly. I mean so horribly to the point where I began to cry and believe me when I tell you when it comes to pain and pain tolerance, I am a Marine. Remember that scene in 40 y/o virgin where Steve Carell is getting his chest waxed and he screams out from the pain 'MMMM-AAAAHH! KELLY CLARKSON!" Yep, that is exactly what I felt like doing. I had kidney stones and took no drugs and stood it and this pain was more annoying than that. If it was the 1800's, I would be the type to get through a major surgery with nothing but a brandy soaked dirty rag crammed into my mouth and a metal pipe to grasp onto. I'm that good with pain, but this shit HURT. Next week, we are doing this by I.V bag. No more going into tiny veins in my hand.
Anyway, the Dr commented that he has never had anyone have these side effects before. Gee, thanks for making me feel like you believe me dude. Oh, except for an "elderly" gentleman who felt some itching but nothing else. So I said to him, "well, it appears that you have finally met the fabled princess who actually feels the pea under her mattress now, doesn't it?" With that, I went to a room to lay down and wait a bit to see if there were any more goodies in store for me. Unfortunately, the "Wendy Williams Show" was on the TV and this made things even worse. I hate that woman. She is a horrible, shrieking, overly dramatic tranny-esque woman. I cannot believe she has her own show. Her audience needs to be bitch slapped for being so "woot woot' enthusiastic too. The staff must ply them with sugar before filming starts because they are far too hyper for what is actually going on. My companion was supportive and held my hand and thankfully talked over Wendy and her "how to look like Michelle Obama" fashion show. The only thing that would have made this worse was Donny Osmond popping up as a guest so at least I'm grateful to him for staying away and giving me some peace. This experience served as a gentle reminder that I despise day time television and the whole "being up early" experience and always will.
I laid there and just as I thought it was all going away I began to feel pins and needles and a horrible prickling, stabby sensation in my feet. Then, it ran up my calves. That lasted for another hour. I came home and took a very long nap and woke up with my "middle" aching and hurting. And I had a headache. Good times. I made myself get up and eat since I hadn't had food since the day before and it was now about 3 pm. Yay for Fairway's broccoli rabe, sausage and peppers and garlic bread. I now feel almost human again.
Oh, and I was told that I need to get a medic alert bracelet because the blood test from the last visit showed that I have a rare genetic coagulation disorder and if I ever needed surgery I would probably need a transfusion if I didn't get a special injection to promote clotting prior to surgery. What a damned day!
The perfect ending to this perfect day involved going across the street and buying a cupcake at the Italian place that sells these HUGE gloriously beautiful cupcakes. I deserved it dammit. It was a cupcake day if ever there was one. That and a steamy cup of their maple milk. We will be back to our regularly scheduled programming in the next day or two and I will not be dedicating posts to my health woes unless something really big happens. I know you must be like WTF? What will she be telling us next? The size and shape of her poop? To that question Dear Reader I say, no, I will leave that to the poop obsessed Dr Oz. That seems to be his forte.
That's all for now! :)
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