on life as a pincushion

I am covered in some spectacular bruises today. To do the CT, they not only have to find a vein, they have to thread the needle through it in order to create an iv for radioactive dye.

If this sounds painful, it's because it is. And, veins on someone who's had a lot of chemo are hard to come by.

First, they tried on the inside of my elbow.

Then they tried on the side of my forearm.

Finally, they had to go for the inside of my wrist.

The nurse informed me that she usually avoids this at all costs, because it is "torture" (she actually said this more than once).

It hurt like hell.

I think the nurse was astonished that I didn't yell or lose my temper. I did gasp, and rather loudly, as the murmers from those waiting on the other side of the curtain indicated. But I was good (as we first-born children tend to be).

The nurse kept commenting on how good-natured I was.

And I'm certainly more stoic than I used to be.

But really, though, I was too stressed about getting the test done to think much about about being stuck with needles.

It's all relative, really.