I've always feared doctors. When I was younger, if I got wind of a doctor's appointment.,I would go to our backyard and climb the highest tree and stage a sit-in until I got too hungry or tired to protest any more. It once took four nurses and a doctor to hold me down for a single shot (and yes, I'm still very proud of this feat!). I even went 16 years without a tetanus shot before anyone noticed. That's how much I hate needles.
Luckily, I had no idea what was in store for me at the orthopedist's office last Friday, or I would've never walked through the door. I was told prior to my visit that I would have an EMG test, but I was too busy to google it--a good thing, because as we all know, even reading about the slightest sniffle on WebMD will have you convinced you are dying a slow, uncertain death.
When I arrived in the exam room, I was given some information about the procedure:
An electromyogram (EMG) is a test that is used to record the electrical activity of muscles...blah, blah, blah...a needle is inserted through the skin into the muscle...
NEEDLE???? Into my muscle?!? Without moral support or Valium?
And that's not even the worst part--ELECTRODES! Up and down my right shoulder, arm and hand, followed by a series of electric shocks that broke me faster than Jack Bauer can extract information from a terrorist. I felt wave after wave of nausea, broke into a cold sweat and seriously contemplated crying out for my Mommy. I would've confessed to anything--that jelly bracelet I stole from the grocery store when I was eight, the unpaid parking tickets at Furman, the two Blockbuster movies I never returned...
Only the music of Celine Dion could've made it more painful.
Luckily, I had no idea what was in store for me at the orthopedist's office last Friday, or I would've never walked through the door. I was told prior to my visit that I would have an EMG test, but I was too busy to google it--a good thing, because as we all know, even reading about the slightest sniffle on WebMD will have you convinced you are dying a slow, uncertain death.
When I arrived in the exam room, I was given some information about the procedure:
An electromyogram (EMG) is a test that is used to record the electrical activity of muscles...blah, blah, blah...a needle is inserted through the skin into the muscle...
NEEDLE???? Into my muscle?!? Without moral support or Valium?
And that's not even the worst part--ELECTRODES! Up and down my right shoulder, arm and hand, followed by a series of electric shocks that broke me faster than Jack Bauer can extract information from a terrorist. I felt wave after wave of nausea, broke into a cold sweat and seriously contemplated crying out for my Mommy. I would've confessed to anything--that jelly bracelet I stole from the grocery store when I was eight, the unpaid parking tickets at Furman, the two Blockbuster movies I never returned...
Only the music of Celine Dion could've made it more painful.
Ouch! I'm feeling the pain just reading about it. Glad you made it through (but you might want to watch your back for Blockbuster cops).
ReplyDeleteHey, I happen to like Celine Dion! My husband surpised me with tickets when we were in Vegas once. She sounds amazing live, by the way.
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