Wednesday, February 12, 2014
So when my doc proposed insulin shots for my ongoing diabetes struggle--well, you may imagine how excited I was at that prospect. My current oral meds have some nasty side effects. Tired and depressed and truly feeling discouraged, I agreed to the new regimen, but my already wobbly belly was engaging in a new set of flutters at the IDEA of injecting myself. I spent a restless night worrying about this new aspect of my life.
I have a root canal scheduled today and THAT wasn't as worrisome as the NEEDLE. Oh, woe is me!
I rolled out of bed this morning--tested my blood sugar (a sparkling 243) and hauled out the papers explaining the process of insulin injection. I have the insulin pen, so it wasn't even like it was a real syringe. (How in the world do drug addicts stand to do this crap???)
I finally fumbled through the assembly process, and then with a DEEP breath, I went for it. Poked my arm. Peered down there to make sure the needle was in because I didn't feel anything. Yep, it was in. Pressed the injection button. And I did it!
I'm feeling a bit silly for wasting a night's sleep worrying about needlegate when I could have worried about the root canal instead.
The boogie man--he just isn't as bad as he used to be...