My home health nurse, Brandy, came and unfortunately I was super nervous and kinda grumpy. I didn't know what to expect and just wanted to be where I am today. Where the newness has worn off and it has slowly become just another part of life. Brandy was absolutely phenomenal. She walked Ryan and I through everything and answered all our crazy questions.
We sprawled out on the table and all the Copaxone paraphernalia started to make me extremely anxious. There is was just starting at me. My new normal. holy shit I begin to retreat into the confines of my own mind. "Can I seriously get up and give my self an injection every. single. morning. For the REST of my life?? There is no way in HELL. That's super inconvenient," my inner 'faidy cat whines. My super snarky inner mother bears wakes up and adds her two cents in. She's apparently had enough and begins her tirade. "This isn't about inconvenience or about what you want. This is about what you need. This is about what you must do in order to grow old with your husband be a functional mother to your children, a good doc and later become a kick ass grandma to your children's children. Stop bitching and put your big girl panties on." My inner 'fraidy cat hisses and retreats and my mother bear nods her head with satisfaction. She stands there arms crossed with a look that encourages me to continue on. "Okay, okay.... I got this." I reluctantly begin to pay attention.
As we sat at our kitchen table Brady went through what is now my new journal and showed me how to inject myself and where. About 20 minutes into the lesson, as I watched Brandy demonstrate how to "cock and load" the auto-inject tool, I started to zone out again... I begin thinking, "There is no way in hell I am going to use that thing. It looks scary. I would much rather inject myself then leave it to some crazy tool I have to treat like a gun." My inner mother bear, senses I'm about to get overwhelmed and jump ship, perks back up and rationalizes for me. "You certainly don't have to use the auto-inject if you don't want to. We can just store it in the medicine cabinet so if you ever change your mind, it's there." I inwardly sigh and express my concerns to Brandy. She confirms that I do not have to use it and that as long as I am comfortable doing it manually it is O.K. whew! I was almost a goner.
At this point all the back and forth and in and out I've been doing inside my head has me worn out. I am really struggling to take in all the information and process it effectively. The time has come though, and Brandy asks me where I want to give myself the first shot. I actually tell Brandy
I don't care," in a very dismissive tone but what my insides were now screaming was, "WHOA THERE NELLY Why are we suddenly in such a hurry? Who said I was ready? Because I am most definitely NOT ready." My anxiety sky rockets and there are no inner voices to calm me down. A million things are racing through my head; all crashing into one another and making it hard to focus. At some point in time my right thigh was the chosen site and the process began.
As I sat in the chair and tried to pinch the required 2" of leg fat I wondered how the needle would feel. The syringe looked small so I was fairly sure I wouldn't feel it much. I wondered if the medicine would hurt going in like a Hep B shot. The nurse says no, but you never truly know until you do it. She also told me the worse part started about 15 seconds after the needle is removed and can linger up to 30 minutes. "hmmmm, that's interesting," my inner 'fraidy cat has meandered back into the scene and is quietly gloating to my inner mother bear as I become more and more vulnerable. I prepped my leg with alcohol, pinched up about an inch worth of fat and skin on my thigh and plunged the needle in at a 45 degree angle. "ok, ok... that wasn't so bad." I was still apprehensive though and took my time injecting the material inside the syringe. I took out the needle discarded it appropriately and waited. Can I just say,"OOOOUUUUUUCCCCCCHHHHHHHIIIIIIEEEE This shit hurts like hell. Brandy said I should ice it after. I declined at first. I needed to feel exactly what my reaction was going to be. I needed to know how it felt. I needed to know if this pain was something I could deal with every day for the rest of my life.....
The burn started light at first. like a fresh mosquito bite that has annoyed you because you caught the little fucker mid suck. Now he's dead and the welt left behind is an itchy hurt that won't go away. Within two minutes the burning has turned into a full blown wasp sting and all I could do was stare at gigantic mishapened welt that has formed near my injection site. "This looks nasty!" my inner girly girly shrieks. She begins hurriedly making a list of things to do to decrease the size of the golf ball that has developed in my quad muscle as soon as Im able to rub it out. The redness then began to streak down my leg and the burning became more then I could manage. Ryan gets my an ice pack and Brandy packs up to go. I was totally and utterly spent. I felt nauseous and only wanted to lay down in bed. A small part of me felt victorious but my sheer exhaustion won over and I went to bed..... still wondering:
How the hell will I do this?
every. single. day.
---Warrior
No comments:
Post a Comment