I've got you under my skin
Well it’s all very much back-to-school in September, innit? Books to write, weight to lose, and, yep, that other little project we’ve been working on for the past year or so.
So far - as most of you know - my body has been refusing to play nicely and thus it was that this week I found myself in a hospital basement learning how to inject myself in the stomach with a cocktail of drugs:
Human menopausal gonadotrophin
Follical stimulating hormone
Luteinising hormone
Lactose monohydrate
Polysorbate 20
Sodium hydroxide
Hydrochloric acid
God knows how they work but the idea is to make me pop out a decent number of eggs (thus increasing the likelihood of twins or triplets but there we go, moderation has never been my strong point).
.jpg)
When I say I was learning how to inject I am in fact lying. Actually, I can’t face it. So I take DJ S along. She is much braver than me, and as I point out to the nurse, good with her hands.
Lady V: My husband’s away in Italy on business so I’ve brought my friend instead. I’m scared of needles you see.
Nurse: Ah, lovely! That’s so kind. What a good friend. Will you be able to stay with her overnight, just in case there’s any side effects?
DJ S: Oh, ok then.
There follows a twenty minute demonstration of mixing vials, snapping ampoules, drawing liquids in and out of tubes, swapping needles, and the tap tap tap on the side of the little glass bottle to make sure there’s no air bubbles left inside. It’s all terribly English Patient.
.jpg)
I had thought the needle would be some sort of punchy thing like diabetics use, but no. It is a proper one and it ALL HAS TO GO IN.
Nurse: You have to approach at a 90 degree angle.
DJ S: Uh-huh.
Nurse: And don’t worry if you hit a vein, it’ll bleed but she won’t die.
Lady V: ?!?!
Nurse: Are you sure you want to do it in your stomach. You could do it in your thigh. Anywhere there’s a bit of, er…
Lady V (through gritted teeth): Fat?
DJ S: Snorts
Afterwards we sit in a coffee shop porking down pastries (am fat anyway, so who cares?)
Lady V: I’m guessing you didn’t bargain for this when you fancied a bit of slap and tickle on a Tuscan hillside. Soz.
DJ S: Raises an eyebrow.
Lady V: Stick with me baby, I’ll show you a good time…
So far - as most of you know - my body has been refusing to play nicely and thus it was that this week I found myself in a hospital basement learning how to inject myself in the stomach with a cocktail of drugs:
Human menopausal gonadotrophin
Follical stimulating hormone
Luteinising hormone
Lactose monohydrate
Polysorbate 20
Sodium hydroxide
Hydrochloric acid
God knows how they work but the idea is to make me pop out a decent number of eggs (thus increasing the likelihood of twins or triplets but there we go, moderation has never been my strong point).
.jpg)
When I say I was learning how to inject I am in fact lying. Actually, I can’t face it. So I take DJ S along. She is much braver than me, and as I point out to the nurse, good with her hands.
Lady V: My husband’s away in Italy on business so I’ve brought my friend instead. I’m scared of needles you see.
Nurse: Ah, lovely! That’s so kind. What a good friend. Will you be able to stay with her overnight, just in case there’s any side effects?
DJ S: Oh, ok then.
There follows a twenty minute demonstration of mixing vials, snapping ampoules, drawing liquids in and out of tubes, swapping needles, and the tap tap tap on the side of the little glass bottle to make sure there’s no air bubbles left inside. It’s all terribly English Patient.
.jpg)
I had thought the needle would be some sort of punchy thing like diabetics use, but no. It is a proper one and it ALL HAS TO GO IN.
Nurse: You have to approach at a 90 degree angle.
DJ S: Uh-huh.
Nurse: And don’t worry if you hit a vein, it’ll bleed but she won’t die.
Lady V: ?!?!
Nurse: Are you sure you want to do it in your stomach. You could do it in your thigh. Anywhere there’s a bit of, er…
Lady V (through gritted teeth): Fat?
DJ S: Snorts
Afterwards we sit in a coffee shop porking down pastries (am fat anyway, so who cares?)
Lady V: I’m guessing you didn’t bargain for this when you fancied a bit of slap and tickle on a Tuscan hillside. Soz.
DJ S: Raises an eyebrow.
Lady V: Stick with me baby, I’ll show you a good time…
posted by Lady V at 12:30 am
5 Comments:
I note in picture two that you have added another mixer to the cocktail of drugs: a generous glass of white wine. While perhaps not suggested by the nurse, this is of course an excellent choice given that you have to be injected with giant needles. You know what they say: a bottle a day makes the needle OK!
Oh dear darling, this is all terribly EP indeed. And Almasy REALLY wishes he was the one poking you with large needles, but alas is stuck in this demented place trying to find a car. I NEED TO BORROW THIS CAAAAAAAR!!!!!! Good good on DJ S taking on the poking mantle. She is - I am sure - very FIRM with her hand... ho ho ho!
You make it sound sexy.
The wine was for DJ S! I haven't touched a drop since Almasy was last in town...
catherine. no one believes you
now. back to the needle
pray tell.
Post a Comment
<< Home