What a drama I was having!

Right. Yesterday was one of those days. Actually, prolly the worst of those days. Ever.

It started with innocent chest pain on Monday. At first I thought it was heartburn but ruled that out as Zantac did fuck all.

The steady series of knives remained on Tuesday so I thought I'd discuss it with Deviant. He decided to consult his doctor about the symptoms and promised to call me back.

Well, two minutes later Deviant calls back saying 'Pack your stuff, I'll pick you up and take you straight to the emergency'. Fucking great.

On arrival to the emergency, instead of the usual several hours of waiting, Nurse Sour has me strapped to an ECG sooner than I could spell 'chest pains'.

Enter Male Nurse Evil - a funny young dyslexic guy with a very strong Irish accent and sadistic tendencies. Things start turning from bad to worse when the nurse announces that he'll have to do a blood test.

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Bunnies, at this point I feel I should share with you the fact that I'm needle phobic. And by that I don't mean that I find vaccinations and blood-works unpleasant and don't like to get them done. By needle phobic I mean that I was the kid who bit the doctor and had several nurses and a very pissed off mother chasing me down the hospital corridors for every shot... and not much has changed since.
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Male Nurse Evil returns with the dreadful blood-works kit and I announce on spot that I'm severely needle phobic. He kindly reassures me with the words 'oh don't you worry... I've read the book so I should know how to do this.' Fantastic. How come I always score the sadistic hospital comedians?

Deviant is sitting on a chair next to my bed and I try to relax and focus on him. I concentrate on my breathing and try to calm myself down.

I'm in a party, there's groovy tunes in the background. Having a great time. All my mates are there and someone hands me a drink... no?

I open my eyes and stare straight into Deviant's face and he looks like he's about to shit himself. He's holding my head in his arms and I remember that we're at the hospital. I still have no fucken idea what has happened so I ask. Then I hear Male Nurse Evil chuckling in the background and respond 'Guess...' I remember the blood test and realise that I must have once again fainted. 'Fuck'

Deviant keeps staring at me like he's seen a ghost and later on tells me that I had fainted full on Exorcist style - gone all yellow, eyes rolling back in my head accompanied by muscle spasms and twitches. Great.

And this was only the beginning.

I had a free ride all through the torture chamber and collected enough material for a lifetime of hospital related nightmares.

I can safely say that having a cannula put it and getting hooked into 'the injector' [insert here shudders] in order to have a CT scan done (to rule out blood clots in my lungs) was the most traumatising event of my fucken life so far. I am aware of how piss weak that sounds, but my needle phobia really is THAT bad.

My heart is peachy, my lungs clot free, blood pressure too low if anything - in short: I'm healthy as a fucken horse, just happen to have a freak chest pain.

The doctor felt sorry for me in the end and told me that I 'must have had a very traumatising night. In our books you're healthy as can be. Go home and have a glass of wine. Looks like you could use it.'

Gee, thanks. Now what do I do with these track marks? I'd pass for a professional junkie.