Pain In The Butt

“How’s your leg?” Iris translates for Doctor Detta during my follow-up visit.

“It’s okay” I reply, “but my butt is killing me!”

For three days now, I’ve been shooting Ceftriaxone in my derriere. Apparently, I’ve been doing it wrong. This concerns Doctor Detta who is wearing a bright orange ambulance jumpsuit that I admire. I’m asked to pull my pants down as she carefully examines my bruised and swollen tush.

Happily, I receive instruction on which butt quadrant to take the injection, how to correctly withdraw and mix the diluents with the solutions preventing contamination, how to release residual air from the syringe and how to employ rapido speed of entry for optimal hypodermic needle piercing. (Useful information I’ll freely dispense to any would-be antibiotic junkie).

There is a slight infection in my wound. Iris picks up the prescription for additional Ceftriaxone at the Farmacia. (Which, as a side note, she had placed in her name so I wouldn’t have to pay the out-of-pocket expenses. Grazie mille!) My doctor warns me of possible side-effects including vaginitis and gastrointestinal diarrhea. (Hoorah for symmetry: front and back.)

Once more in bed with my leg propped up on the four pillows, I quickly reach for the OPO crutches. It’s the second side-effect! Maria is proud of her English funny:

“Ha ha! You’ve got the runs and you can’t run!”

I burst out laughing and make a mental note not to share updates should I get side-effect number one.