Ouch

Yesterday I had to get a Hepatitis A shot.

I do NOT do very well with shots. The chance of me becoming a heroine addict is pretty close to the same risk of me becoming anorexic. It will never happen. I hate needles and I love food.

I was with my friend Laura when I went to get the shot. She was very supportive and even held my sweaty, nervous hand while it was being given to me. Seriously, you would have thought I was in the middle of getting an epidural to give birth to triplets with as much fear as I was displaying. Afterwards, for like 10 minutes, the nurse kept asking if I was going to be ok because I couldn’t seem to catch my breath and kept sinking further in my seat.

I survived though and all was well until this morning. My friend Katie, who has been staying with me the last several days, was in bed with me at 6 a.m. when I rolled over onto Rosie and noted that my arm felt like a very large man had punched it.

Now I’m more than a little afraid that I have caught Hepatitis A. At least in my left arm. I can barely lift it. The only reason I’m typing this entry with both hands is because I used my right hand to lift my left arm up to the keyboard. That was a painstaking process. Sometimes I think I psyche myself out, but sometimes I think maybe having a needle stuck in your muscle really freaking hurts. (And believe me, I have big muscles in my arm. I am, as they say, toned. Ok. That’s a lie. But there is some muscle there I think.)

I don’t know what Hepatitis A feels like, but if by some chance it feels like you’re tired, bored and wish you could just curl up in front of your laptop watching Lost all day with your gimp arm, then I think I have it.