I Don't Like Shots!!

On my 6-mile run Sunday, I somehow aggravated my back and my sciatica nerve. It happens from time to time, but never in the history of my sciatica nerve aggravating has that nerve been as aggravated as it's been since Sunday.

Monday and yesterday, the quarter mile walk from the parking garage to my office left me in tears. My boss and a wonderful co-worker spent yesterday morning telling me I needed to see a doctor.

But I don't see doctors, I told them.

On the way home last night, though, after the most painful walk to the car yet, I headed to Patient First.

I walked into the building and I was greeted by a crowd of masked people. I'm not sure I've seen more people wearing masks on a day not called halloween - EVER.

I signed in and was offered my own mask. I looked around at the couple of dozen folks wearing theirs, and decided to decline. I'd heard masks are in short supply. I get why now. Someone else will have one as a result of my sacrificial "generosity."

After a long wait, I was taken back to been seen. While I was sitting in my little room waiting on a physician, I heard a small child begin to scream. Oh heaven help me, it was a scream that made me want to jump up and into rescue mode. Clearly a life was in danger.

Then I heard the clarifying words - or scream - "I don't want a shot!!"

I began to get squeamish at the sound of that scream. The mere thought of a shot does that to me.

In those moments, a childhood memory of my first shot always gets triggered. The mind is a complicated thing. That maybe doesn't always work in our favor. Childhood memories are stored inside us. We call on those memories from the past to provide meaning to the moment we're in. And well, they aren't always as accurate as we recall them.

My memory of that first shot is of a doctor holding the needle several inches above my buttocks and then driving it down - sort of like a knife. I wasn't but a few years old. My mom assures me that is NOT how that happened.

I assure her it is. It aboslutely is. At least in my mind.

The screaming went on - as I began to sweat and feel a bit ligtheaded, my doctor arrived. "Are you OK," she asked.

Yea, doc, I told her. Just some back trouble.

I explained my trouble, she looked me over, and said I'm going to give you something for the pain. If it doesn't get better in a week, we'll send you to a physical therapist.

Sounds good, I told her. What are you going to give me.

She said I'm going to give you a shot that will help with the pain right away - then an oral steroid that will help over the longer haul.

I'd like to just go with the longer haul method, I told her, if it's all the same with you.

You don't want a shot, she asked, somewhat puzzled.

I almost started screaming, much like that child I'd been hearing, "I don't want a shot!" - but I didn't. I stayed composed and simply said - no thank you, I'll stick with pills.

I don't want a mask, either, I told her.....

I am pleased to say aggravating is a bit less aggravated today. I'm hoping that means I'm on the mend. (and will be able to run my race Saturday......) ​