Thursday came around, and I forgot that they'd told me not to eat before coming in, so I ended up eating more than most people eat even when it is allowed. I drove to the address the man on the phone gave me, and followed his instructions to "the door by the metal gazebo." Upon entering, I was handed a packet of paperwork that was thicker than all the Harry Potter books combined. I started reading and quickly got bored so I just skimmed the rest of it. I glanced around at the other candidates who at least looked like they read it in a lot more detail than I did. They were all signing it, so I figured there couldn't be anything too malicious in there and signed away. For science.
After we all signed, we were taken into a small room where a short woman with a thick accent came in and talked to us for a while. I couldn't understand a lot of the words she said, so I just nodded along. After she was done, we were separately taken into the back so they could run some tests on us. They told me that since I had eaten, I wasn't allowed to pee in a cup or get my blood drawn, so they would do those things on Friday. So they had me lay down on a hospital bed to hook up an ECG (which you don't actually have to take your pants off for). While it was going, I thought it worth mentioning to the nurse that I had been told I have a bit of an irregular heartbeat.
Me: I've been told I have a bit of an irregular heartbeat. Just so you know.
Nurse: Really? Like irregular how?
Me: I don't know. That's all they told me. It's irregular.
Nurse: Have you ever had any problems with it? Like passing out or anything?
Me: No. Well not from my heart at least. Can't you just look at the results of the ECG and tell me what it is?
Nurse: [Looking at the papers printed from the ECG] Well actually I'm not a doctor, so I can't really read these, I don't know what it all mea- Hang on. There are some funky letters going on here...
Me: What are they?
Nurse: It says you have sinus bradycardia with frequent supraventricular premature complexes.
Me: What? What does that mean?
Nurse: Hang on. I'll be right back.
So then he left. Without telling me what on earth that meant. So I just stayed on the bed, wired up to the machine for a few minutes, waiting for him to come back, trying to remember what the words he said even sounded like. Finally he returned.
Nurse: Okay. You're good now.
Me: What did you learn?
Nurse: You're fine, that doesn't disqualify you for the study.
Me: Yeah but what does it mean? Like for me?
Nurse: Oh, nothing, it's no big deal.
Me: But-
Nurse: Come over in here now.
And then I was handed off to someone else, who sat me down to ask me 20,000 more questions. Again a lot about drugs. And then a lot about stuff that I'm certain they could just look at me for. Like my skin tone and eye color. Which all went kinda like this:
Interviewer: Which would you say your hair color is? Sandy red, Dark brown, Black, or Whitish blonde.
Me: Um, none of those.
Interviewer: You have to pick one.
Me: Well you can see my hair. Which do you say it is?
Interviewer: You have to say it.
Me: Can you just tell me which one you think I should say?
Interviewer: No. I can't influence your choice, you just have to choose one.
Me: K, say it's brown then.
Interviewer: Do you mean dark brown?
Me: Yes. My hair is dark brown.
Finally I got to the part where they give me a sunburn (which you do have to take your pants off for). They took me in another small room, gave me a small wandish looking thing, and told me to hold it against my thigh for two minutes. I did, and it didn't feel like it was doing anything at all. It was barely even warm. I was then released and told to return the next afternoon, and to not eat for real this time. By that night, there was a line of half-inch square burns going down my thigh.
So the next day, I starved myself into the afternoon and drove back to the metal gazebo. They looked at my burn and told me I had the best burns they'd seen so far. It's about time my fair skin came in handy. They sat me down on another hospital bed, and after a few minutes a tall doctor with a bush of chest hair sticking out the collar of his shirt came in, looking through a binder of all my test results. A nurse followed with a box of syringes.
Doctor: So you are DGB?
Me: Yes.
Doctor: What broken bones or surgeries have you had?
Me: Recently or ever?
Doctor: Ever.
Me: [Tells him all my surgeries and broken bones]
Doctor: Okay, and have you had any other emergency room visits?
Me: For what?
Doctor: For anything. Have you ever visited the emergency room for other stuff?
Me: You want like ever emergency room visit I've ever had?
Doctor: Yes.
Guys. I've been to the emergency room a lot. I never have thought it was an unreasonable amount of times, but I don't know how this guy thought I would be able to list them all off. There has been multiple times a year, every year since I was born. I tried to explain this to the doctor, but he still wanted a complete list. So I just did the best I could, and ended by telling him that there was probably a bunch that I missed, but that they were no big deal.
Doctor: Alright, got that out of the way. Now, can you just tell me what you're expecting when it comes to the capsacin?
Me: Can I tell you what?
Doctor: The capsacin. What is it in your mind, what do you imagine it's like?
Me: [My mind immediately went to all the paperwork I didn't read the previous day.] I've never heard that word before in my life.
Doctor: Really? Oh. Um, we're going to be injecting you with a capsacin. It's just a little bit of fluid that's made to cause you pain for a little bit. It should be pretty intense at first, but should wear off pretty quick and be gone within 20 minutes. A lot of people describe it as an intense bee sting, or maybe a snake bite. I'm not sure how they know what a snake bite feels like, I can't imagine very many people have actually been bit by one. Anyway, it's mostly this chemical called [gibberish doctor word], and it's the active ingredient in jalapeño peppers. So just think of it like we're pumping jalapeño juice into your blood.
Me: ...Alright, sounds good.
Doctor: Cool. Now a lot of guys come in here and act all tough, say it only hurts like a 2 or something like that. Don't lie to us. We know it hurts more than that. You ready?
Me: Yeah, go for it.
Then the nurse stuck the needle in my arm. Before the needle was even out, the pain had started. And it was way more than I had expected. I tried to look like I was handling it well, but my face was probably giving it all away. It was a strange mixture of that entire section of my arm being stabbed, but also on fire from the inside. I gripped the table in front of me and held my breath long enough to break four world records and finally the pain started to fade.
Doctor: How much does it hurt, on a scale of one to ten?
Me: Right now, or at the peak?
Doctor: Right now.
Me: It's probably down to a six by now.
Guys, I hate using that 1-10 pain scale. I never know what to say. In the moment, it might feel like a lot of pain. But how am I supposed to be able to compare that to a pain I had 4 years ago? Does it hurt less or have I become more tolerant to pain? I can't remember if I've felt something more painful. And what if I do say ten, but then a few days later I feel something that hurts even more? Ten is already taken, but that new pain can't be an eleven, so now I feel like I can never say ten, which makes me nervous to even say nine. Anyway, I went with six.
Doctor: Good. If you said anything below four, we'd kick you out.
Me: Awesome, glad I passed!
Doctor: [Looking through my lab work]
Me: Are my ECG results in there?
Doctor: Yes.
Me: I've been told I have a bit of an irregular heartbeat. So I told the nurse man yesterday, and he just said there were funky letters on there but wouldn't tell me what they meant.
Doctor: Have you ever passed out or anything?
Me: No. Well not from my heart at least. But there was this time in elementary school where I held my breath for too long cause-
Doctor: Don't do that.
Me: Okay, got it.
Doctor: Do you remember what it was called?
Me: Something about super...
Doctor: Sinus bradycardia with frequent supraventricular premature complexes?
Me: That's the one!
Doctor: Yeah it says it right here. That's not gonna be a problem, don't worry.
Me: What does it mean though?
Doctor: Well it just means that... Actually can I just listen to your heart? I wanna check what it is for sure. Cause that might be wrong.
Me: Go for it.
Doctor: [Listens to my heart for bit] Oh okay. I get it now.
Me: What is it?
Doctor: Hang on. [Walks out of the room]
Guys, he never came back. I never saw him again to ask what was up. While I waited though, I grabbed my binder, flipped to the ECG page and took a picture of the words so I could at least see what it was called. Because there was no way I was going to remember what they'd been calling it. By now the pain in my arm was down to a dull ache. Someone else came in to escort me to the room where they draw my blood. A young looking man (I think his name-tag said Eric) was in there waiting for me, and an even younger looking girl followed in shortly after and just kinda stood in the back.
Eric: Which arm do you want us to stick you in?
Me: Left. My right arm already got stuck today.
Eric: [Gesturing towards the girl in the back] Oh, maybe she should do it! Do you want her to do it?
Girl: You don't want me to do it.
Me: She says I don't want her to do it.
Girl: I'll probably miss if I do it.
Me: Yeah you just do it.
Eric: Well she's here to supervise me. So what does that tell you?
Me: That I super don't want you to do it.
Eric: Haha. [Sticks the needle in me anyway] Oh shoot!
Me: For reals?
Eric: Hang on, let me just wiggle it around here a bit.
Me: [Sighing] Do what you gotta do, man.
Eric: HAHAHAHAHAHA I'm just kidding, it's in there fine, you've got great veins.
Me: Thanks, I made them myself.
Eric: HAHAHAHA that's a good one! I've actually never heard that one before! Haha.
Girl: Are you sure YOU made them? Didn't your mom make them for you?
Me: Okay well I guess she made them at first. But I've been working on them for years now. She only worked on them for a few months.
Eric: Hey, haha that's a good point! Alright man, I got what I need here, you're good to go.
So I snatched up a handful of snacks from a snack basket and walked back to the front desk. They lady there told me they'd call me sometime in the next few days to let me know if I get into the full study. I took the long way out, hoping to run into the doctor or nurse man to ask more questions about what is going on with my heart, but I didn't see either one and I had to get home to cook dinner, so I walked out and drove back to the house.
I'm pretty optimistic they'll let me in. After all, I did have the best burns they'd seen all day.
No comments:
Post a Comment