Breaking in on

(the more historical part of) my tale of the rare and harrowing journey, I'm going to give you, Reader Dear, a more current and up-to-date episode (Think of it as a late-breaking report!  Think of it as me shooting you a news bulletin!)  

I'VE BEEN SHOOTING MYSELF DAILY!  

Yes, yes, it's with syringes-full of medication that I inject into my belly (belly shots, anyone?)

When the doctor first intoned these words,"You will need to give yourself injections of the Lovenox during the time you are not taking blood thinners," I'd have to say it loomed overwhelmingly large in my psyche!

 I paled slightly, gulped, and whispered, "What?!  I must stab myself with a needle?!"
When he assured me that the intention was definitely for me to play nurse to myself, I then suggested hopefully "Could I come here to the office, or go to a nearby lab, or something, and get them to do it for me?"

"Well," he replied, "It must be given twice per day, about twelve hours apart."

All the way home from the doctor's office I scurried around in my mind, searching for some solution to the problem.  One thing was for sure--I could not do this! I would not be poking needles into my own flesh!
The Yard Man offered to do the task for me.  "I've stabbed horses with needles many times!" he said. (I shuddered!)

Now, Reader Dear, the necessity of stopping the blood-thinning medications was in order to go through the procedure of having my feeding tube removed (For weeks and weeks it has dangled by my side.  I have not used it during these weeks! I have changed the dressing at the point-of-entry and flushed the tube daily, but I have ingested NO nutrition through the tube in all these weeks!) There were countless communications with the gastroenterologist's office and the cardiologist's office.  Countless!  (As in, too many to bore you with the whole debacle of finding a date for the removal!)  As all things worked out, the date is set for tomorrow (We shall see.  [The cardiologist has a way of throwing a monkey wrench into the matter (again and again)])!)



So as the time drew near, I made a trip to the drugstore to collect the syringes of medication.  The druggist gave me a few pointers regarding injection of the pointy weapons (alas, it's how I thought of them),  and I carried that Rx home, trying not to dwell on the upcoming task.  I preached myself a little sermon.  If you can just do it once, you'll be okay! Millions of folks, many just as fraidy-cat as you, have done this down through the ages (well, at least the modern medical ages).  You can do it!  




Seeing as how you've already read the headline, Dear Reader Dear, you know that I did do the deed!
I looked at that long shining needle, I cringed, I gulped, I quaked, I gritted my teeth.  I mustered up all my courage and I plunged that needle into my own belly!

( Cut up a plastic jug, the drug guy said, to dispose of your syringes)

It took a moment or two for the truth to sink in--I'd actually done this frightening task!  I'd risen to the challenge!*
.......................

*It's not one of the drugs commonly injected for its buoyant and elevating effects, but it certainly gave me a HIGH, Reader Dear!