Hey, I got a shot in the butt today, does that mean I’m going to fall in love?
Woke up a tad nervous today. Stayed over at Brandon’s for two days. Played D&D Wednesday, I was the only one that didn’t get knocked out and go into con damage. Everyone lived, fortunately. Unfortunately the cleric went into con first, so we had no healer. The rogue took the wand, and stabilized her. She was stable, but we didn’t know. When you go into con, you make your rolls a secret until you stabilize, or die. Then you announce it after so many rounds. Then the gunslinger went into con, he stabilized, then the rogue did, he stabilized. Good die rolls guys! I kept panicking because of the demons (dogs) we were fighting. Bad die rolls! I kept shooting them and rolling bad damage. I did 3 times and couldn’t get over 10 damage, and they had ONE POINT LEFT to die. My minimum damage is 7 with my ivory comp. longbow. Shit die rolls, I tells ya. The rogue eventually crit’d them and killed the last one. He got his astrological tattoo, we escaped where we were, left the town, and called the game.
JUST ROLL RIGHT!
Typical Pathfinder setting, around the table
Envy was fun. As usual. Brandon gave the bartender, Enzo a rose and almost kissed Brandon, which would have been awesome, but they hugged instead. I was flirting with his other bartender, who is gay, but oh well. Enzo was like “Do you like him? He’s soooo cute”. No chance for me.
I got the shot today. The poor receptionists were getting slammed, so I let them take calls while I waited. She was really nice (sometimes she gets a bit snappy, but when I said “Oh, busy day eh?” she vented a bit, and I smiled and said “Hope it slow downs, and it IS Friday!” and she said “Thankfully!”) and I waited for about 5 min in the waiting room watching a woman knit a gorgeous shawl.. I wanted to comment on it, but she was talking to the person she was with, so I opened my phone and immediately got called in.
Dr B was in a funny mood. He was really nice, as usual. We were in the “needle room”, and even with the door closed, could hear the waiting room. The office manager was calling people into rooms and kept yelling “Mrs. X? Mrs. X? DO YOU HAVE YOUR HEARING AID ON?” and he’d start laughing, and then I would too, as he was preparing the shot. He goes “Do you have refills on this?” and I was like “Check the bottle” (they put the vials in a Rx script bottle) and he laughed and goes “Oh, ya! duh!” and goes “Yea, you’ve got 8 more vials”. Then I said, “Yea, my great grandpa, at 97 wouldn’t wear a hearing aid. Said they were ‘for old people’” and Dr B was laughing.
“He was 97?!” “Yea, he outlived 3 wives” “Holy crap!” “Yup. Lived in a cottage until 2 weeks before he died.” “WOW”. “Hunted his own food, too” “That’s amazing. He must have been healthy.” “He smoked, drank, and chewed tobacco! Also had diabetes and leukaemia” “Wow, what a story”
He gave me the shot in my “bum” (I’m waiting for the day he says “rump” because I will never stop laughing at that) and it was a bit worse than the first time, but really not that painful.. It stung a bit more, I had been focusing on my breathing, I felt the needle sting, then a bit of pressure at the end, because Piportil is suspended in sesame oil, and is thick (hence using a 21 gauge needle, most shots are given with a 25 gauge needle, as the needle gauge gets higher, the needle gets smaller, so for comparison, an 8 gauge needle is HUGE. Technically, using a 21 gauge needle, the shot is less painful for this injection because the Piportil is out with less force, and it makes it easier on the body. I had a nurse give it to me with a 25 gauge needle once, she thought it would make it less painful. Long story short: It didn’t) so there’s usually some pressure from the injection itself. It wasn’t bad.
He checked to make sure it wasn’t bleeding, the pain was loooong gone, asked how the appt with Dr N, my pdoc, went, if he was still taking me on in the other city, and when. I said in May, and that he’d be my sorta psychiatrist until then if he was okay with it, which he is. Dr N likes Dr B, and vice versa, I mean, I have the refills from Dr N, but if something goes wrong, Dr B can handle it. He already did, by starting the Piportil. I said Dr N was fine with the Piportil, said Dr B made a good choice, was fine with the doses, etc. He wished me a Happy Valentines Day, and I left, kinda chuckling, so was he, not in any pain, forgetting to steal any candy.
He fills the syringe with one of these and then injects with an actual needle.
It avoids needle sticks and stuff.
I love when Dr B is in those moods.. He’s got a great sense of humour, and I was 100% at ease, forgot about any anxiety. “Just a quick shot in the bum..” “Yea, I know” “Yea, just making sure!” *poke* Everyone needs a GP like him. Even when he’s in a more serious mood, he’s fantastic. He knows when to use humour, when to be serious.. great bedside manner.. So shocking to find someone like that in this city.
Sometimes what I feel like. But it’s not that bad. The needles bigger though.
So now, my butt feels fine, it tingled a bit. Like “Hey, what are you doing to me?” LOL. I was sedated for about an hour, 1/2 hour after. I laid in bed and just chilled, got up, took my Ritalin (I don’t take it if I’m even a bit anxious, because it can make me more anxious) and did computer stuff.. I got some more wool last night, for a project for a special someone.. I just need to free my 90 peg loom.
Ahh, great grandpa.. he was a great man.. fed me many moose-burgers. He hunted his own food. We often had a giant freezer full of moose or deer in our cellar at my parents. He outlived 3 wives. WOW. 97. He never wore a hearing aid, and had so little hearing, he could only hear men (you lose higher frequencies, so womens voices, first) so my dad and grandpa would have to yell at him. That got him a private room at the hospital. His last day, we brought him fresh strawberries (he loved them) and he ate them, and died later. Peacefully, no morphine or IV or anything. Probably just said “I’m 97, I outlived 3 wives, I better leave now!”
In Heaven there’s no husbands and wives.. he probably lived so long to avoid going there to 3 pissed off women waiting for him!
My Friday cocktail hour.