Posted by sean on December 5, 2019 at 1:29 pm in Health with No Comments

I am not needle phobic. Many years ago, I was. However, after being injected more times than a junkie, I have been forced to get used to ‘assault by needle’. This kind of proves that exposure therapy works, but certainly doesn’t mean that I’ll be attending any spider handling classes, anytime soon.

Despite not running for the hills, whenever I spot a long, sharp metal object, I can’t admit to needles being one of my favourite things. I don’t recall Julie Andrews singing about them in a positive light either.

Following my operation three weeks ago, I was ordered to receive daily injections. I was given the same treatment after January’s surgery, but was able to stop the course, upon getting discharged home. The thought of coming off the things, allowed me to tolerate every stab, prod and “short, sharp scratch”, inflicted upon my stomach – yes, my STOMACH – throughout my most recent stay.

The jabs stung a tad.

You can therefore imagine my horror, when, upon being sent home, I was ordered to continue the things for 14 days!

Apparently, this is all necessary to prevent blood clots. That did make me wonder… I received very similar surgery at the start of the year. Considering that I was not told to keep injecting myself, was I at risk of turning into a giant clot of blood? If not, is the latest clinician, who I have named Dr Stabby – just a meanie, who likes inflicting pain?

I’m willing to say yes; which is why I hope he somehow ends up standing barefoot on a rusty nail.

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