Saturday, September 27, 2014

Five Pokes and a Puppy

My naturopathic doctor sat on the footstool next to my recliner. Her eyes registered compassion and sympathy. "I'm not going to poke you anymore," she said. My veins squealed their delight.
Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, I drive the 30 minute trek to have my IV infusion of healing juices. My body welcomes the fluid as it drips it's magic elixir to make me healthy and whole. But my veins see it in a different light. That tiny little needle and catheter have become harbingers of pain and my veins don't like pain. When we first began the IVs they were happy little tubes. "Sure," they said. "We're strong, courageous. Hit us with your best shot." But as of late, their tune has changed. Their itty-bitty sing-songy voices cry out, "nooooooo". They crawl away. They smush down into flat lines. Anything to avoid that pokey thing from invasion. They're smart little dudes.
So the dance goes like this: The needle approaches my arm or hand. I squeeze the little ball, my touchas rises from the chair - ever so slightly. The needle is in... But then... The veins roll and twist and flatten. Good grief, guys, my pain is over. Is yours now just beginning? Vein up, dudes! Granted, most days are better than this. On those, "Celebrate, celebrate, dance to the music," days, one poke is all it takes. I'm now free to watch a movie, take a nap, schmooze with others who are attached to a tube and pole...
But this day was a five poke day with zero results. 
Then, when I was about to pack up my toys and shuffle out, without my vein juice, a serendipity happened.


My sweet friend was finished with her treatment. Dr. Y mentioned something about taking her puppy and going home. Now we all know  the word, "puppy" is used for all sorts of things. But today, the word puppy was... a puppy. My friend reached over to the side of her chair and pulled out of a small, plastic travel case, a minuscule, no bigger than a minute ball of fluffyness. Now this was better than all the IVs in China. (Are IVs made in China like everything else?) My hand met her fuzzy head and we bonded. Then Dr Y took her and Elsa cuddled up in her lap for a sweet puppy nap. Two patients, one doctor, a puppy, and time to connect as sisters in a world where it's easy to speed by. What could be better?
I walked out of the office with five bruises and no treatment. I went home with peace, comfort, warmth in in my heart and a smile on my face. I think my healing journey was accomplished for the day.
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