Cry like a Baby or Grimace like a Butch? Part 2

As a follow-up to this morning’s post, I want to update you on how it went at the foot specialist. If you haven’t read my first post from today, I encourage you to stop now and read that one. Then come back to us when you are caught up. We’ll wait for you – go ahead.

Hi! You’re back. Cool.

So with all of my coping mechanisms in place, we headed into the doctor’s office. First the nurse, then the PA, and finally the doctor came in to see us. The doctor said as he was about to leave the room, that they would get me set up for the Fluoroscopy-guided injection, and then he walked out. I tried to listen to the PA, but, honestly, the tears started to stream down my face. Drat. She grabbed me a box of tissues and I tried to keep it together. Then we were off to the special room with the scary equipment in it, including an “oh shit” bar hanging over the bed. It really warmed my heart to see such a bar. Ugh. My gorgeous fiancé did a great job of distracting me and I got dried up before anything started to happen. The plan was that I was going to focus on her and she was going to tell me about things in Barcelona that we should see next month when we are there. I tried to focus on her, and I did. I can’t tell you anything about the places she mentioned – other than there is a church that is “very big” and some “sort of gargoyle thing we should see.” Also, I am sure that I squeezed her hand way too hard. Good thing she is tough.

The injection hurt. A LOT. Much worse than I remember in my wrists. I am told that the foot is the worst place for a cortisone injection. I believe it. That is the bad side. The good side is that the pain I felt, as severe as it was, only lasted for a few minutes tops. Provided that I get good relief from the stuff, it definitely falls into the category of the pain of the injection being outweighed by the, hopefully, long-lasting relief. We shall see.

In the meantime, I can report that I did cry (maybe not like a baby, but more like a tweenager), and I did grimace like a butch. I know that I was grimacing on the table as the tears fell. So I guess I did both. After the procedure, here is how this butch copes.

1. Get driven safely home by someone hot and sexy, and not on Ativan. My gorgeous fiancé handled this one for me, so check!

2. Stop to take your favorite “butch lunch” home. For me, this is a spicy chicken melt sandwich on jalapeno bread. It’s delicious and so, so very spicy. It makes me feel extra butch. Don’t forget a chocolate milkshake. Hey, I would give one to my kids after a morning like I had – why can’t I use the same approach? Besides I don’t want to mix a beer (my milkshake of choice) with Ativan.

3. Lie on the couch and relish in the fact that I made it through! I am butch, so no need for anyone to be with me, and I sent the gorgeous fiancé back to work stat. There may be times when I would want her here with me if I wasn’t feeling well, but this is one that I can handle myself. All is well here on the couch, with my pillows, my water, my PS3 controller, the remote, my tablet, and my laptop. And I know that for later, a nice La Fin du Monde, my favorite Belgian style tripel brew, waits for me in the fridge.

What do you know? Blogging made me feel a little better before the procedure and its making me feel a little better afterwards too! Thanks for reading!

It’s butch to take care of yourself and it’s also butch to admit when you need a little help. Be butch.

About Tristan Higgins, aka Butch Jaxon

I am a butch. This blog is about what I think. If you do not know what butch means, you are probably on the wrong blog. In the interests of inclusion, though, I can tell you that “butch” means a lesbian that is big, strong, tough, more macho, less girly. Of course, there are no hard and fast rules – which is an ongoing theme in my blog (and in the comments), but those are the basics. A butch will most likely not wear makeup. A butch is often referred to as “sir” by someone who is not paying attention. What else? I am, after all, not just a butch. I am happily married to the most amazing woman ever, and the mother of two fantastic kids. I am also a lover of, in no particular order, beer, bow ties, breasts, movies, hiking, bookstores, travel, dogs, geocaching, polar bears, the gym, music, gadgets, and more. By day, I am an intrepid corporate entertainment lawyer. Although I try hard not to be labeled as such – sporting a bleached Mohawk, for example. Think more entertainment and less corporate. By night, bring it all on! In my blog, I talk about things from a butch perspective, but this is not just for butches. We all love our femmes. Please do not let me offend femmes, mine in particular! If you like what you read here, I hope you will comment and let me know what you think. If you do not like what you read, well, what the hell do I care? Start your own blog. Be Butch. View all posts by Tristan Higgins, aka Butch Jaxon

12 responses to “Cry like a Baby or Grimace like a Butch? Part 2

  • Stephanie

    One, good job for surviving and no shame in crying (I personally spent a lot of time crying in the shower, its more efficient! And I also dance so it’s not always a cry fest). But I confess when I read your blog no matter what the topic, I want a beer. Cheers.


  • Fabulous Mommy

    Ouch Butch that sounds excruciating!

    Not being butch myself I would have cried ugly face tears. Well done on surviving with your cred intact.

    I hope it fixes your foot up for a long long time and you don’t have to do that again anytime soon.


  • Phinn

    Oh man, I have arthritis too and those injections suck big time! You’re right though, they are definitely worth it in the long run. I always have to psych myself up to make sure I don’t cry – usually that works, except for one time when my Mum came with me and I bawled like an infant! Yup, tough guy right here haha.


    • ButchOnTap

      Phinn, you are tougher than me then because I did cry a bit. Ugh. And if my mum came, I would be a wreck! All bets are off when mothers are with you, no? Thanks for reading and for your comment. By the way, how long do you get relief from each shot?


      • Phinn

        Absolutely all bets are off haha. You know, I like to think I’m pretty tough and independent, but there’s something about pain that makes me regress to about six-years old. Combine that with your Mum being there and, well, you know the rest!

        In terms of relief, it depends which joint is injected, and how active my arthritis is at the time. So if it’s really bad then they don’t last anywhere near as long as if it’s under control. I can go anywhere between six weeks and a year before needing another shot in the same joint. Shoulders and wrists etc seem to last longer, weight bearing joints like feet and knees considerably less. Sucks huh?


      • ButchOnTap

        Phinn, glad I’m not the only butch who breaks down around her mom! Thanks for the thoughts on the shots and arthritis. I’m hoping for a 6 month respite. It’s only been a few days, but I am really hopeful so far. Thanks for reading and commenting!


  • MainelyButch

    Absolutely love your blog. BE Butch…says it all, at least for me. Rock on and keep on writing! Hope the foot is better !


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