I couldn't help but think of my Great Grandmother today. Many years ago when I was on one my drives back from Boulder to Boston because I was too fat to fly I made a stop in western PA to gather up her and her stuff. I was tasked with driving Grandma (as she was known) from the farm she had grown up on just outside of Pittsburgh to my Gram's place on the Cape. The drive was a bit stressful, she was 90+ by then and we needed to stop frequently. She was also pretty much silent for most of the ride. She was the type for whom if you inquired how she was, she would tell you she was old. I tried to make conversation but as the trip progressed we lapsed into a more or less comfortable silence-- except for when I turned on the radio to help concentrate on the road. That guaranteed she would talk to me. Today was kind of like that, when you want a moment of radio silence, there is someone asking you all these questions.
I had my second Synvisc shot this afternoon. No PA today, a fellow apparently, but he was no where to be seen so I got to spend some qt with the Doc He has a very kind touch thankfully as I'm still a mess after the fall. He took a moment to figure out where to administer the shot as he did not want to go through the bruise which is getting pretty massive as it disseminates. That impressed me actually, consideration goes a long way. Amazing too that with such a light touch he could tell where there was fluid or blood or who knows what. I don't really like to think about what the inside of my knee looks like when this happens but you could tell he was picturing it. Anyway, I've had lots of shots by now and really I just like to sit there and breathe. The nurse who "installed" my first PICC line taught me how and it's a technique that has served me well. 2 mls is not much but when the fluid is as viscous as the Synvisc it has to go in slow. I'd say about a third of the way along he asked me if I was fine. "Yes, I'm fine," I said as I exhaled.
"Are you sure you're fine? Or are you just saying that?" he asked again.
What are you my husband? No, I didn't say that, but I did think it. I explained how the breathing helps me to be okay while it's happening... this as he pushed on the plunger forcing in the rest of the "treatment". I'll twitch when I think about it later (like right now) but with a needle an inch and a half into your joint is not the right moment. Concentrating on breathing keeps me calm and spaz free. Needles and shots are just one of those things I have to endure and being all squeamish about them is not in my best interest. Suck it up and deal is how I do, but hopefully next week, I can do it in silence.
Always a learning curve with a new doctor.