Pills, pills, pills!

…what I sing to myself every night when I have to take them. Either to the tune of Destiny’s Child song “Bills, bills, bills” or Lady Gaga’s “Boys, boys, boys.” Just depends on my mood and sometimes I even throw in some hip action.

I tell you this because my routine has changed yet again. I just started injectable Orencia rather than infusions. Sure, I miss all the VIP salon treatment in the infusion center. Doing fun things like completely commandeering the yearly surveys on how to make the infusion room better and making sure every patient there that morning wrote down the following requests: Keurig with coffee selection! Pastry assortments! Thicker blankets!! Punctuated just like that…except I included a well placed ‘FOR THE LOVE OF GOD’ after my own thicker blanket request.

Sweet, sweet rebellion. Why do I get the feeling that I may not be missed?

Anywho. So I had to learn how to give myself a real shot and not an epipen shot. Hilarity ensues. As I read through the directions with the nurse, I think she was a tad concerned with my hand gestures. I mean, it told me to hold it like a dart and stab it into my leg. So I was getting ready to do just that when she intervened.

Oh. So you just set the needle on the leg and gently push? You don’t start with your hand a good three feet above your leg, aiming a needle in an ominous direction? And to confirm, there is no need for speed or force?

Well. That’s kinda boring. I was gonna go all Pulp Fiction on my thigh up in here. 

I did my first one unassisted recently and it was just as uneventful.

I think it’s time for a new song. And maybe some spirit fingers.