The Infusion Day Spa

My body is apparently allergic to many kinds of antibiotics.  So this week, when I was told that I needed to be on antibiotics, the normal kind were out of the question.  You know, the kind in pill form.  Not for me!  The only antibiotic that I could take- in the world of medicine- had to be pumped into my body via IV.  I didn't even know this was an option, but it is.  

I was not trilled to learn that I would be stuck with a needle every day for seven days.  I faint every time I give blood.  I have to give myself a little mental pep talk every time I get a shot, and I still end up farting from anxiety.  This was not welcome news.

However, I decided this was a good opportunity to overcome my needle fear, so onward I marched- to the Infusion Center!

That's right, to get an IV when you are not in a hospital, you have to go to an Infusion Center.  That is really what it's called.  Only, instead of infusing vodka with pineapple or something equally delicious, you're infusing your body with drugs.

I had no idea what to expect, but the Infusion Center was really nice.  There were all sorts of comfy leather recliners filled with older Americans getting infused with life saving elixir.  I was comforted by this.  If they were able to keep these older people alive, I stood a chance.

So here's how it works.  Once you pick a chair, your nurse will begin the process of inserting the IV.  It turns out, this actually isn't too bad, unless you get Bad Nurse Kim who can never find your vein and then has to wiggle the stupid needle around.  If you get Good Nurse Larry, it's relatively painless.  

You have the option of keeping the IV in for three days.  If you do this, you must sign a waiver that you will not use the port to insert illegal substances into your veins.  I mean really, if you can't use your IV for a little meth, then what's the point?  I did try this on the first day (leaving the IV in, not using it for meth), but it was a huge pain in the ass and I had to cover it up with foil when I took a shower.  Thus, I chose to be re-stuck every day, which I think says a lot about me and how brave I am.

Once you're stuck, basically, you are a queen for 35 minutes.  They have snack options of peanut butter crackers, Sun Chips (all flavors), and those little biscotti cookies.  You can also choose from all Keurig beverages, sodas and Gatorade.   

My snack was usually cheddar Sun Chips with red Gatorade because those are the best flavors of both products.  They'll also bring you a blanket, a heating pad for your arm (because the IV juice is cold) and a remote so you can watch TV.  And, because I was the youngest and most lucid- always- I was automatically all the nurses' favorite.  Sweet!   

So, things were going well.  I was on day three of seven, and had gotten into quite the routine.  I had Good Nurse Larry, had already placed my Sun Chip/Gatorade order and was settling in for a little nap.  Larry hit the button on the machine and I heard the machine start pumping.  Then, I looked down right before the juice went into my arm and saw...an AIR bubble!

Look, I don't know a lot about medicine or IVs or veins, but I do know that in some horror movies to kill someone the killer pumps air into their victim's veins through an IV.  Air is not something that should be in your veins, I know that much.

I didn't want to freak out though, it was probably fine.  But what if it wasn't?  Should I Google this?  If I did, what would I Google?  "How long does it take you to die if there is air in your IV?"  "How much air in your veins will kill you?"  Did I really want to know the answer?

The longer I sat there, the more anxious I became.  Just because I wasn't dead yet, didn't mean anything.  What if it took 24 hours?  I would be freaked for a whole day.  It would be like watching "The Ring" and not being safe for seven days.

Finally, it was too much.  I raised my IVed arm.

"Um, Larry?" 
"Heeey, there.  What's up?" said Larry in his soothing nurse voice.
"Um, this is probably weird, but I saw a little air bubble go into my vein when you started the IV.  Is that going to kill me?"

And this is how nice the nurses at the Infusion Center are- he didn't even laugh. 

"Oh, well, that's a good question.  Was it just a little bubble?"
"Yes."
"Okay, well I can see how that would be alarming, but no, that won't hurt you.  If that whole thing were full of air and we were pumping just air into you, that wouldn't be good."
"Oh, okay.  Thanks Larry."
"You are so welcome.  Ask anything else that you're concerned about."
"Um, can I have some more Gatorade?"
"Of course!"

So that is how the kind nurses of the Infusion Center not only didn't try to murder me, but also kept me hydrated and were not at all condescending when I asked dumb questions.  

I'm not saying I'm sad that tomorrow is my last day, but I will miss being treated like a frail, elderly celebrity for 35 minutes every day.  It turns out all I need to be extremely happy is a blanket, a remote and someone nice to bring me Gatorade.  It doesn't get much better.

How to take a shower with your meth IV port.  Or how to fight crime as a robot.