| Subject: Horrible trip |
Author:
Neha (worst)
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Date Posted: Monday, July 15, 2024, 03:15: pm
REAL EXPERIENCE
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Yesterday, my family and I decided to go on a trip. It was supposed to be a relaxing day, filled with fun and memories. We reached a beautiful spot, and as always, I took out my camera to capture the moment. I was so engrossed in taking pictures that I didn't notice a dog approaching. Before I knew it, the dog scratched my feet, and I was horrified. My mind raced with the next steps—I knew I would have to get injections, which I dreaded more than anything.
We hurried to the nearest government hospital. My father spoke with the receptionist, explaining what had happened. The nurse on duty listened and then said, “She’ll need two IM injections. You’ll have to wait for Dr. Gitish.” My heart sank at the thought. My father received the prescription, and I clutched it tightly, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation.
Waiting for Dr. Gitish was torturous. Each second felt like an hour. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was only 15 minutes, he arrived. When he called me into his cabin and locked the door, I felt a lump in my throat. The room suddenly seemed much smaller.
Dr. Gitish greeted me with a calm voice, “Let’s take a look at the wound.” He examined the scratch, and his expression turned serious. “I’ll need to clean this and apply some ointment,” he said. I couldn't help but ask, “Will it hurt?” He looked at me with steady eyes, “Lie down comfortably; it will burn a lot.” My stomach churned at his words.
He instructed me to lie on my stomach and pull my panties and pants down. My hands trembled as I did so. I felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. Dr. Gitish began preparing the injections, and the sound of him snapping on gloves and opening alcohol pads made my heart race even faster. He swabbed my left buttock with an alcohol pad, the cold sensation making me shiver.
I braced myself, knowing what was coming. Dr. Gitish said, “This will sting a bit.” Before I could fully process his words, I felt the sharp jab of the needle going deep into my lower left buttock. The pain was immediate and intense. I screamed, “Ahhhh...uhhh...” It felt like the longest minute of my life.
“Don’t move,” he instructed firmly, finishing the first injection. My body tensed, still reeling from the pain. Without giving me much time to recover, he began preparing the second injection. This time, he swabbed my right buttock with an alcohol pad. I tried to steady my breathing, but it was impossible.
“This one is the tetanus shot,” he explained, positioning the needle at a 90-degree angle. The next thing I felt was a deep, burning pain as the needle pierced my upper right buttock. It was devastating. I clenched my fists and held my breath, willing the pain to subside.
After what felt like an eternity, it was finally over. Dr. Gitish discarded the needles and said, “You’ll need the same dose tomorrow.” The thought of going through this ordeal again made my heart sink even further.
My father helped me get dressed and guided me out of the cabin. The entire experience left me shaken and exhausted. It was one of the most harrowing experiences I’ve ever had, and the thought of the next day loomed over me like a dark cloud.
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NEXT DAY ::
Of course, Neha. Here's a more detailed and intense description of the injection part.
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The next day arrived with a cloud of dread hanging over me. My name is Neha, and the previous day's experience was still fresh in my mind. The thought of returning to Dr. Gitish for more injections filled me with a paralyzing fear. I pleaded with my father to let me stay home, but he gently insisted that we needed to go for my health.
“Neha, we have to go,” he said firmly yet kindly. “It’s for your own good.”
Reluctantly, I got dressed, every part of me screaming in protest. The drive to the hospital felt like a slow march towards an impending doom. Each passing minute heightened my anxiety, my heart pounding as we neared the hospital, haunted by the painful memories of the previous day.
We arrived, and my father spoke to the receptionist. The nurse, recognizing us, said, “Dr. Gitish is expecting you. Please wait for a moment.” My legs felt like lead as I sat in the waiting area, each tick of the clock amplifying my dread.
“Neha, please come in,” the nurse finally called. I took a deep breath and stood up, my father’s supportive presence beside me. We walked to Dr. Gitish’s cabin, every step heavier than the last.
Dr. Gitish greeted us with a calm and professional demeanor. “Hello, Neha. Let’s get this over with,” he said, attempting to sound reassuring, but nothing could alleviate my fear. The room felt colder and more menacing than before.
“Please lie down on the examination table,” he instructed. My hands trembled as I climbed onto the table. “Lie on your stomach and lower your panties and pants,” he said. The vulnerability and exposure felt overwhelming, tears welling up in my eyes.
Dr. Gitish began preparing the injections, the sounds of snapping gloves and opening alcohol pads filling the room. He swabbed my left buttock with an alcohol pad, the cold touch sending a shiver down my spine. “This will sting,” he warned, but nothing could prepare me for the agony that followed.
The first needle pierced deep into my lower left buttock, and a searing pain shot through my body. I screamed, “Ahhhh...uhhh...” The pain was unbearable, and each second felt like an eternity. My muscles tightened, and I clenched my fists, trying to endure the burning sensation. “Don’t move,” Dr. Gitish instructed as he finished the antibiotic injection, his voice a distant echo in my haze of pain.
Without giving me time to recover, he prepared the second injection. He swabbed my right buttock with an alcohol pad, the cold touch contrasting sharply with the heat of my fear. “This is the tetanus shot,” he explained, positioning the needle at a 90-degree angle.
The next moment, I felt another intense, burning pain as the needle went deep into my upper right buttock. It was devastating, making me clench my fists and hold my breath. The pain left me breathless, my body tensing with every second. I wanted to scream, but the agony rendered me silent, my mind consumed by the fiery pain spreading through my muscles.
Just when I thought it was over, Dr. Gitish said, “You’ll also need a B12 injection for your weakness.” My heart sank further. He prepared the third injection and swabbed a new spot on my left buttock. The anticipation was agonizing, and when the needle pierced my skin, the pain was sharp and overwhelming. I cried out, unable to hold back the tears. It felt like my muscles were being torn apart, the sting of the needle radiating through my entire body.
Finally, he prepared the fourth injection. “This is another antibiotic to ensure there’s no infection,” he said. He swabbed another spot on my right buttock, the cold alcohol pad a cruel prelude to the pain. The needle jabbed deep, and I felt a wave of agony, my body rigid with pain. The pressure and burning sensation were almost too much to bear. I bit my lip, trying to stifle another scream, as the injection seemed to last an eternity.
“Stay still,” Dr. Gitish instructed, finishing the last injection. The ordeal seemed never-ending, each injection worse than the last. My body felt battered and bruised, and the thought of going through this again tomorrow was almost too much to bear.
My father helped me get dressed, his touch gentle and comforting. I felt drained, both physically and emotionally. We left the cabin, and the walk out of the hospital felt like a journey through a nightmare. It was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life, and the thought of returning for more was a torment I couldn’t escape.
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