Am I ever ready?

Sunday, November 29, 2015 , , 0 Comments

It is difficult to explain.  Maybe it is the same for everyone.

Do I hate it?
Fear it?
Bear it?

But whenever the doctor say,  the inflammation is severe,  I will give you a course of injection,  if I am not 44, I might throw a tantrum.  But the so called maturity held me from behaving like a kid,  as always in my case,  the doctor asks me to turn and loosen my clothes.

You think because of all the weight I gained in the area,  it cushions the pain? You got to think again.  I become stiff like a rod,  when I feel the wet cotton cleansing the area,  I am poised for the prick,  but never ready. The moment the incision is made,  I clench my muscles and it only gets from bad to worse.

The injection when drawn back,  I feet like a school kid waiting for the final bell.  Today, wasn't any different and I got up hastily,  tightening my dress,  hurriedly paid the doctor,  keen on leaving, but in my hurry I almost dropped my pant and when I bent to hastily draw back the pants, my elbow hit the surgical tray and all the stainless steel (murderous) weapons fell down.

Embarrassed, hurriedly I picked them and hit my head on the couch.  The doctor waited patiently,  I paid and left.

Three day course,  two days gone. Tomorrow...  Wish,  I had grown another pair.  Sigh!

Come on!  Don't look condescending it is just another part of your body like... like...

Forget it,  trying to adjust myself to sleep.

Good night!  Tomorrow is another day.


Some say he’s half man half fish, others say he’s more of a seventy/thirty split. Either way he’s a fishy bastard. Google

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At one, I learnt crawling was fun. At forty one, I still feel crawling is fun #blamemykneesnotme