It’s funny that I posted relentlessly optimistic yesterday. Well, not funny, ironic maybe? I went to bed in tears last night. I do that a lot on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Those are my thigh shot nights – and they suck.
We’ve never had great thighs in the family. But in this case, my extra fat layer should be a good thing – the shots go in best in places where you can pinch up a couple inches of fat. My thighs ought to be excellent candidates. But for whatever reason, over the last three weeks, the shot spots puff unusually, then they get a raised hard spot overnight, ranging from golf ball to grapefruit size. It only actually hurts for a few minutes but it is ugly and bruises. And it is not supposed to work this way. None of my other shot spots do this. So I get frustrated, and mad. Since I’m a bit of a perfectionist, my inability to get this shot spot “right” is pissing me off. I hate this stupid disease.
And though I’ve never looked great in a bathing suit, this is going to make the Wednesday play date at the pool with my girlfriends all the more difficult to actually get me in my suit in public. One bright spot – never loved my freckles so much – you can never tell where my arm shots go cause they are well camouflaged (and nobody but Chris sees my hips and my belly).
In case you are wondering, those are the seven shot spots – thighs, upper arm (fleshy/tricep side), hips (think pants pockets), and stomach. One spot for each day of the week is the rotation. The spot I was most afraid of was my stomach. Oddly, that is actually my favorite spot – rarely hurts and plenty of jelly roll / muffin top to absorb the needle. 🙂 I have a special auto injector which lets me set the needle depth. Its actually a very well thought out plan and once you get used to it, it’s pretty easy.
Update: I talked to the nurse who trained me (Cindy) this afternoon. We’re going to get together next week – probably Tuesday – to do it together so we can figure out where the thigh is going wrong. Cindy says crying should not be part of the process! (BTW, when she first trained me, she asked which shot I was least inclined to [stomach] and we did that one together – smart lady.)