I’ve had a change in prescriptions. I need to give myself a shot every day. It’s a blood thinner just to prevent extreme concern for blood clots since I’m at high, high, high, high, high risk to develop one. (I actually have five high risk indicators.) And with the trouble breathing I’ve had, that’s the first thing doctors stress about. This gives them some peace of mind that we’re taking a preventative measure to address the risk of blood clot.
So the shot. It isn’t a horrible experience for me, so there’s no big trigger warning, but if shots are a thing for you, maybe stop.
Before June 2022, I would have never thought myself capable of delivering an at-home, self-administered, subcutaneous injection. My mother would agree. But I took a different tactic with facing the fears.
I feel unattached to the decision. This detachment is useful to a great extent. I have noticed that if I let myself act on a thought before letting it ruminate and ferment into an anxious fear, I have a lot less trouble getting the job done. This holds true when I’m at work, when I want to ask to be treated differently, when I need to ask for help, when I want to change subject in conversation. Here, in this instance, I had received the shot in the hospital, I knew what the thing looked like, what the sting felt like, and I didn’t have any side effects. I was able to replicate the experience at home with the instruction of the VNA nurse.
So this medicine has been going on for about two weeks now. And every night I take my pills, clean my hip, peel the individual packaging, remove the cap, look down at my side, make sure I’ve got good lighting, and gently poke myself. Once I’m done, I spray lidocaine on the spot just for my own comfort. Doing the aftercare helps me exhale any tension. The nurse’s words “dart it in, nice and quick” resonate in my mind several times as I psych myself up and calm myself down again. There’s a very specific energy I need to get the job done. I sometimes need to stand there looking at my hip for a minute repeating “dart” many many times until I get the right confidence. And Nick cannot look at me. no, no. I can’t take any ounce of extra energy or outside concentration when I’m taking care of business. And Nick holds his breath if he watches, which changes the energy in the house.
I have a perfect record, no doses missed. I am very proud of myself. I look forward to mot doing this anymore, and I shall be glad to return to only having pills to swallow each night.
And I think it helps. My shortness of breath has noticeably lessened. I have far more energy day to day, morning through afternoon. May it be a placebo? Sure. But I’ve been feeling great, so I’ll take it.