07 March 2006

From Hell’s heart, I stab at thee

A History Repeats entry

After having all the blood work done, the clinic doctor tells us I need to lose weight. (You’d think with all the blood that was drawn from me, that alone would have brought my weight down.) So, on to the diet bandwagon I jumped. After two months, I lost enough weight for the doc to give the go-ahead for us to start our first cycle. Happily, we skipped into the orientation session with Nurse Lancet, and she whipped out Ye Ole Big Box of Freakin’ Huge Needles and I proceeded to get very queasy.

I hate needles.

They give me the willies. From the very beginning, I told Hubby that he would need to stab me (and he wasn't allowed to enjoy it, either!). I prayed that I would get the snorty stuff (Synarel) or the stabby pen (Gonal-f), but no, I got straight-up, stick ‘em in needles. And just for a good laugh, in the package they sent home with us, someone accidentally dropped in a handful of 3cc/mL syringes. Those would be the ones with the 1 ½” needles. Do you know how long 1 ½” inches is? Let me show you:


Here’s a second view, comparing to my thumb:

(And no, the needle is not twisted. It’s an effect caused by scanning. Makes it seem even worse, eh? You have twist it like a screwdriver to get the sucker in…::shudder::)

Imagine shoving that puppy into your belly. Ouch. I nearly had palpitations when I saw Gargantuan, and I cried just thinking about sticking myself with THAT. You can’t imagine my relief when I called the clinic and they said that was a mistake. Phew.

Well, the very first night rolls around, and with a palpable mixture of excitement and terror, we load up the first needle. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I get a burst of courage: “Let me do it!” I gleefully exclaim. Hubby looks at me, doubtfully, but being the supportive Hubby that he is, he hands me the needle. I pinch the belly, identify my point of entry, aim, press the tip of the needle softly against the target, squeeze my eyes shut, start squeaking “owowowowowow” and plunge. Omigosh, I did it!!! I did it!! Yay me!!

In my excitement, I forgot to unpinch and release the needle. Duh. It hung there, like a weary soldier, until I remembered to withdraw it a few seconds later. But it didn’t matter, I was so proud of myself. And I stabbed myself everyday, twice a day, for the next 13 days. Not that it helped our fertility any. But I still did it. All by myself.

3 Comments:

At 8/3/06 4:53 AM, Blogger Robber Barren said...

Oh....um....ow.

 
At 8/3/06 11:32 AM, Blogger Thalia said...

Yup, it's just not that bad when you get used to it. Although those needles certainly would have given me the willies.

 
At 12/3/06 3:09 AM, Blogger persephone said...

aaaaaaagghhh! I'm trying very hard not to picture what would have happened if you tried to use the longer needles.

 

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