The first procedure was a simple CT - shouldn't be a big deal, right? Wrong. It took FOUR attempts before they could get the line in to run the contrast. I was poked FOUR times. Twice in each arm. Once in the crook of each arm, and once in each forearm. And it hurt. A lot. A really really lot. I won't go into detail, but it flummoxed both of the techs, my rotten veins, and I know that had someone been there with me, I would have been bawling from the physical pain. Since I was alone, I maintained the strong front.
It doesn't really get worse, but it got no easier. The second procedure involved inserting a probe with a camera into my bladder. Sucked big time. I wanted to cry, but of course, I didn't.
I wanted to cry for the pain the tests caused, for my arms that have already turned blue and black with bruising from the needles, for the fact that my T was right, and today was a bigger day than I let on. I just wanted to cry.
Going at it alone wasn't all that fun. I know, though, that I wouldn't have been able to stay strong if I had someone there with me, I would have been in tears while they were digging around in my veins. While I didn't like the pain, I didn't cry throughout any of the procedures today. I didn't like it, it hurt, but I dealt with it.
I'm realizing, sadly, that going at life alone has made me *seem* stronger. That isn't necessarily a good thing, putting on that brave face and using humor to cut the pain keeps it buried. When I actually start to feel - the hurt, the frustration, the sorrow - it is magnified that much more. Maybe that is why I don't like to see this stuff as "big" as it is - because there is no one to comfort me when I need comforting, no one but me, and I am so not good at self-comforting yet. Keeping things light and small keeps me safe from myself. But it still hurts.
Thanks for listening, I just needed to whine a bit, I suppose, and am really glad to have this forum right now.