My yearly check up should have been in September, but apparently, I didn’t really need to see the doc until November. I have hypothyroidism (loooooong story), which means I need to get it checked once a year. I’m also at the age where I should get the big checkups, but I don’t want to talk aboutt that right now. I do want to talk about the former, though, and a few other things.
I do not like going to the doctor. When I was a teen, the docs figured out that I had hyperthyroidism. Graves’ disease, to be precise. I had to get my blood drawn every month for quite some time. Plus, they put me on pills–twenty-seven a day. Nine of them three times a day. Am I misremembering? Maybe. But it was a lot. I have terrible veins, so that meant I got poked a lot. A LOT. One guy prided himself on never having to re-poke someone–and he missed my vein. Since he had just bragged about never re-poking someone, he refused to jab me again. Instead, he wiggled the needle around in my arm until I nearly screamed in pain. It hurt like hell, and I would have given him any amount of money just to poke me again.
It felt like a hot poker was shoved into my arm, to be honest. That taught me several lessons, none of them good or positive. Mostly, pride definitely goes before a fall–and it hurts me not the person it should hurt.
After a year or so of all those pills and getting poked over and over, they told me they were going to bomb my thyroid. Back then, they did not have precise instruments with which to deal with thyroid issues. Instead, they decimated my thyroid, made me take a daily pill, and called it a day. I do’nt harbor any ill will towards them because that was all they knew back then.
I don’t know whten I first learned of butterfly needles, but once I had my blood drawn that way, I never went back. It was so easy and painless! Quite frankly, I didn’t know why they didn’t just start with that in the first place. Or why that isn’t the standard. It is for me, now. Whenver I get my blood drawn, I tell them to take it from the back of my hand. It might irritate the phlebotomist that I do that, but it saves time. Otherwise, it’s the phlebotomist looking at one arm (left. There’s one vein that isn’t a total hopeless wreck) for a length of time. Then, asking to see my right arm. Where there is no good vein. None. Then going back to the left arm and trying the one vein that isn’t terrible. And getting it maybe half the time.
The worst was when I gave blood on the regular. I never knew if it was going to be easy or an ordeal. One time, the blood refused to flow. The worker tried to jiggle the needle in my arm (as noted previously, this is NOT pleasant) and, instead, jostled it out of place. The blood went on the floor, which I found really weird. Amusing, but also, hey, that’s a waste of my blood.
When I was in the hospital for my medical emergency, they couldn’t take my blood that way because they needed a different part of the blood. They had one hell of a time getting blood from me, and I looked like I had a run in with a porcupine. It was a good thing I was drugged to the gills so I felt very little pain.
Ever since I found out about the butterfly needle, getting my blood drawn is a snap. Yes, I get a bruise and/or bump at the site of injection, but I would get that if I got the shot the usual way, too. I’ve never had anyone miss with the butterfly needle to the back of my hand; it’s like night and day.
Back to my doctor’s appointment. They did the usual weigh me, ask questions that I mostly answered truthfully, and taking my blood pressure/pulse. The nurse told me my blood pressure was 153 over 92 (or something. I remember the first number, but not necessarily the second). I was concerned because my blood pressure is always 120 over whatever is normal lower number. In fact, last time it was too low. I’ve gotten down to 70 over 50 before, butb that was at ungodly o’clcock in the morning before my thyroid destruction. The nurse jokingly asked if I was dead.
What I’m saying is that my numbers are often weird, but not in the normal way. Anyway, the nurse told me the doctor would take my blood pressure again when he came in to talk to me. When he did, it was 120 over whatever, and he was not concerned with it at all. Plus, my pulse was most definitely not 93. (It’s normally around 70.) He asked if I was stressed, and I said no. I did tell him I’d been a bit flustered before coming in and that I was getting over my flu shot.
It was wild. It showed me the importance of not just accepting what was told to me–not even at the doctor’s office. I have always had low to normal blood pressure, and there was no reason it should jump up like that. I’m glad I got it straightened out before I left.
I was debating whether to get my Covid booster or not. It made sense to get it because it’s convenient and because it’s been a year since I’ve had one (I think?). On the other hand, I was still getting over the flu shot, which hit me hard this year. To clarify, all vaxxes are bad. But base level bad is tolerable. When it goes beyond baseline, it’s, well, I still have to deal with it obviously, but it’s much harder.
It usually takes some time for hit–which it did this time as well. I got the shot around five-fifteen in the afternoon/early evening. Now, nearly 12 hours, my arm is puffy, sore, hot, and achy. I chose my right arm because I had my flu shot in my left (and my blood drawn in the back of my left hand). I’m right-handed, so I try to stay away from shots in my right arm if I can help it. Not this time, though.
I do not think I’ll be doing the Taiji weight-bearing set tomorrow. Not sure if I’ll be able to do most of my weapon forms. We’ll have to see hwo I feel tomorrow, but right now, I feel like shit. More tomorrow.