I hate shots. Really hate them. Needles just aren’t my deal. At all. The IV before giving birth was worse than giving birth in my books!
So today, I’m not feeling well, so I go to the doctor. Low grade fever, pounding headache…. “seems there’s an infection so here’s your prescription… and let’s do the 2nd Hep A/B shot while you’re in the office.” I wanted to cry and yell, “NO! I already don’t feel good! Why poke my arm with the big, scary needle?” But I just sat there and tried not to cry. Low grade fevers, pounding headaches and the thought of getting a needle make me want to cry. Really bad. But I was brave and sucked it up.
Getting a needle is called “getting a needle” in Canada, but in America it’s called “getting a shot.” Just some cultural trivia for you… for free.
Ten hours later, I can barely lift my left arm. Is it supposed to hurt this much? Am I just wimpy? Say it isn’t so. The first Hep A/B hurt, but I thought it was because I got tetanus the same day…. in the same arm. I did cry that day. But, I can barely lift my left arm. I think I need some ice cream. Pistachio Almond. Yep, that will make me not think about my left arm that I can’t lift without experiencing pain. Maybe the nurse hit a nerve or a bone or a muscle or something else that she wasn’t supposed to poke the needle into.
I did spend my evening with the girlfriends around the fire pit. Good times. I didn’t lift my left arm and I had a really nice time. Now I’m home and whiney. Time for beddy-bye. Hopefully I’ll feel better in the morning. Good night.