I am home from work today after my second steroid injection, this time in my left hip. About a year and a half ago, I got one in my right hip. It was extremely painful and scary experience which included nearly passing out. So embarrassment was also involved.
But the shot did it’s job and my right hip is much better! About six months ago though, the same pain came into the left hip. At home, I started stretching and doing exercises, hoping my at-home PT would help, but it didn’t, and I finally accepted that I’d need to go see Dr. Martin at Mass General again. The PA in his office who I met with agreed that I needed to get a steroid shot.
After my last incident, Dad said he would be driving me if I needed to go again
So, this morning Dad (with a chocolate chip muffin in-hand. What a guy!) met me at the VW dealership where I was dropping off my car for work (stay tuned for that entry!), and headed in.
I have been anxious about this appointment all week. And after checking in this morning, they put me into a second waiting room where I felt like I was bumping in and out of an outer-body experience. I was really freaking out, and struggling to figure out how to calm myself down. It’s not often that I’m this nervous.
Last night I went to The Moth story slam with a few friends in Cambridge. Over dinner, I told one friend about how crappy the last steroid shot experience had been “They give you something like six little bee sting shots to numb the area. They all hurt. And then they inject dye in there so they can see the joint really well on the x-ray, and that hurts going in and you can feel the pressure of it filling the joint which is unnerving. And they wiggle the needle around to find the right spot which is gross. And then, they put the needle way in there to inject the steroid and that hurts like hell too.”
To say I was traumatized by the first experience is an understatement, but this time was very different. One shot of numbing agent, not six (geez, I’m such a melodramatic history-changer), and one shot with the dye directly followed by the steroid. It wasn’t pleasant, and I did feel him wiggling the needle around to find the right spot, but it was nothing like the first time.
Easy. As. Pie. (I say pie because it wasn’t as easy as cake. I like cake better than pie. Pie’s just OK. Unless it’s apple pie from COSTCO. Those people KNOW how to make a pie…).
I praised and thanked the doctor for such an excellent job. Going in, he knew about my last experience because in my chart under the section that reads WAYS IN WHICH THIS PATIENT IS RIDICULOUS AND PROBLEMATIC it said “she might pass out cause she’s a wimp”. He was very kind and patient, and I stayed calm and chill on the outside. After I told him what a difference this experience was and thanked him again, he informed me that my right joint may have been more enflamed and that could be why it hurt a lot more.
Oh, take the compliment Dr. Rockstar.