Oh So Humm

I got my cortisone shot yesterday, and it took me back to the days where I was hospitalized for my kidneys (I was diagnosed with IgA nephropathy in 1999).

The shots (novacaine or numbing agent, then the injection, then medicine) hurt at some points where I needed to grip the table and curl my toes, but I made it through. The doctor who administered the shot kept conversation with me the whole time, and his assistant was so kind. They said I did really great, like they were impressed. It wasn’t much to me, just something I needed to push through and nothing I hadn’t been through before.

I’m lying in bed thinking that it really did hurt and I want to cry about it like hey, that actually really hurt. This was the first real shot or injection that caused this much “discomfort.” I realize I do downplay my pain to “discomfort” because my pain tolerance is so high. And I feel like a lot of tension and stress has been stored where the shot was administered (in my spine where the neck meets the shoulders) for so long that it’s coming out, and being in the hospital was actually traumatic in 5th grade for a week or so, but I never really remembered much of it probably because I was probably heavily sedated.

I never associated that period of my life as negative. Yes, my body was fighting but I had so much love and support, none of it mattered but I had to be strong, too. I pushed through the pain of all the poking and prodding. I don’t even remember it as anything bad, just something I had to be strong for and I guess numbed myself. I needed to cooperate in order to feel better and not see my family so worried. Yet, all I remember is my family being there the entire. time. A parent or both, a grandparent or all 4, my siblings… Every time I woke up, during the hard times, every doctor visit, small events at the hospital, follow up visits, visits to the salon to get my facial hair waxed since it was so thick due to the steroids I had to take to get better, nursing me back to health, making me laugh and feel seen in my weakest states.

Needles, thermometers, thumbs used as rectal thermometers, etc. I received a biopsy, while awake and my dad witnessed it with me holding my hands the entire time. They even had to redo it again. That is 4 little shots and 2 big extraction needles at the age of whatever you are in 5th grade.

I also had a major surgery in 2010 at 20 years old for a cochlear implant. The surgery and recovery were really rough. I was couch bound for weeks and needed assistance just to sit up and go to the bathroom. I don’t remember the pain, I remember the love. 

I’m so thankful for my parents. I love my siblings. They do so much for me. I wish I could do more to help them in return. They deserve a better life than they’re living.