Before today, I liked to think that I had a pretty high tolerance for pain. I considered myself able to withstand all kinds of crap, get up and move on. After all, it's in my blood.
It seems I was delusional. ahem
I survived the electromyography. I had myself prepared for the needle part of it, what I wasn't prepared for was the DIGGING that was done with a couple of the needles. Was that really necessary?
Doctor BackPain tried to throw me off my game by commenting on the magazine that I was looking at when she came into the room. It was Cooking Light and there was a piece on several yummy ways to make mashed potatoes. I love mashed potatoes.
And then she and the tech started to talk pie while I lay there feeling like a human pincushion on the verge of some screaming that would have landed me a starring role in any Friday the 13th movie. Blueberry, cherry.....
Anyway, I'm getting lost here.....ahem.
You know what else I wasn't prepared for? The electric shocks. No kidding. Dr. BackPain never said a word about that on Thursday. NOT. ONE. WORD.
When the tech uttered " it's not pleasant ...", my first instinct was to sorta blow her off. She doesn't know how tough I am.
Boy, was I sorry about 2 shocks in.....
I've done childbirth with only those IV drugs are are "supposed to take the edge off", which, by the way, didn't work for me, so I know how that goes. Ask Jon how his left hand felt for weeks after Matthew was born. He left the delivery room with a bent wedding ring. That's right, I bent that sucker nearly into an oval while it was on his hand.
But I'd do it all over again to never have to experience today ever again. Like, ever.
One shock almost made me cry. And I'm fifty percent Nichols, and they know tough. I'm the kind that only cry at sappy Cheerios commercials about being together for Christmas.