Horror Hospital!
No, not 1973 horror classic starring lovely Michael Gough and seventies love machine Robin Askwith, no, it’s all about me! Though Horror Hospital would have been better and more fun, sorry, for letting you down there.
I’m off this afternoon to get my stupid foot injected with steroids. Yay! I’m getting myself through this horrific trauma by partially hoping that it is going to turn me into some manner of freaky footed superhero, probably one with one massive foot that is very good at kicking things but mainly spends the rest of the time running round in a small, tight circle. This is probably not going to happen.
I’m fairly certain that my tolerance for pain is quite high. I've sat and been tattooed for five hours straight, for Perlman’s sake, not to mention the fact that I wandered round with this agonising foot fiasco for a good eight months saying ‘it’ll be fine’ through gritted teeth before I finally relented and sought medical attention. However, medical pain is far different from fun tattoo pain or avoiding medical pain pain. I’m fairly certain that this hospital escapade is going to go one of two ways; either my inherent politeness gene will kick in and I’ll be lovely and acquiescent and merely deal with the pain by giving a slight, ladylike, grimace (much like how I’m sure women in the 50s dealt with childbirth, if cinema has taught me anything) or my crazy, mental gene will kick in and I’ll scream, yell and swear and probably stab the surgeon in the head with the hypodermic (in this instance I shall probably wind up either in custody at Her Majesty’s pleasure or sectioned so if I’m AWOL for a while you can probably guess I went with the latter option).
In the meantime, if you miss me, you can investigate my new Tumblr and plough through the ridiculous assortment of things I think about on a daily basis (confession: I have no clue what Tumblr is, does, or how you use it, I just saw other people had one and I wanted one too, I’m like a 35 year old brat).
Right, I’m off like a brave, little soldier to investigate this fresh new hell of alleged tumour reduction. Think kind thoughts of me. (I’m such a big, fat drama queen!!)
I’m off this afternoon to get my stupid foot injected with steroids. Yay! I’m getting myself through this horrific trauma by partially hoping that it is going to turn me into some manner of freaky footed superhero, probably one with one massive foot that is very good at kicking things but mainly spends the rest of the time running round in a small, tight circle. This is probably not going to happen.
Stupid foot |
I’m fairly certain that my tolerance for pain is quite high. I've sat and been tattooed for five hours straight, for Perlman’s sake, not to mention the fact that I wandered round with this agonising foot fiasco for a good eight months saying ‘it’ll be fine’ through gritted teeth before I finally relented and sought medical attention. However, medical pain is far different from fun tattoo pain or avoiding medical pain pain. I’m fairly certain that this hospital escapade is going to go one of two ways; either my inherent politeness gene will kick in and I’ll be lovely and acquiescent and merely deal with the pain by giving a slight, ladylike, grimace (much like how I’m sure women in the 50s dealt with childbirth, if cinema has taught me anything) or my crazy, mental gene will kick in and I’ll scream, yell and swear and probably stab the surgeon in the head with the hypodermic (in this instance I shall probably wind up either in custody at Her Majesty’s pleasure or sectioned so if I’m AWOL for a while you can probably guess I went with the latter option).
In the meantime, if you miss me, you can investigate my new Tumblr and plough through the ridiculous assortment of things I think about on a daily basis (confession: I have no clue what Tumblr is, does, or how you use it, I just saw other people had one and I wanted one too, I’m like a 35 year old brat).
Right, I’m off like a brave, little soldier to investigate this fresh new hell of alleged tumour reduction. Think kind thoughts of me. (I’m such a big, fat drama queen!!)
I know the feeling of walking around in pain for months thinking it will all eventually correct itself! Why do we do that? Oh yeah, because medical hell is the worst. Good luck with your foot, girl!
ReplyDeleteAll the best. I'm sure you'll go for option 1, but I like the thought of you cursing and rampaging through the wards, giving 'em hell...
ReplyDeleteWhy are there no films about monster feet, when there are so many about monster hands?
The Beast With Five Toes???
Get better soon and hurry back. Now I'm off to investigate this Tumblr whatsit. I have no idea what one is either.
Matthew
It never ceases to amaze me that we so often have to go through pain worse than our ailments, in order to cure said ailments.
ReplyDeleteI'm sending good thoughts and positive energies across the Pond, my dear!
Get well, soon!
Oh, man....
ReplyDeleteMy foot cramps in honor of you. Good luck!
Good luck at the hospital. At least you won't have to spend a couple of years paying off the medical bills like we do in America.
ReplyDeleteJinx, so sorry to hear about your foot problem. When your foot (feet) hurt it ruins your whole day. Hope you get to mending and feeling like dancing again real soon.
ReplyDeletebest,
r/e
Jinx my love, I'm sorry you're in pain and I hope you get this nasty problem to go away so you can start feeling better. Much love!
ReplyDeleteI'm alive!! Just. By Jeebers it hurt. Just want to thank you all so much for all your kind words. I really can't express how much it means to me, I so, so appreciate it. You are all so amazing.
ReplyDelete