Last night, I got my syringe ready all by myself, and I did it without any shaking or hyperventilating. I dialed it up to 300 and when I had it all set to stab into my poor stomach, I called Joey so he could come supervise.
“I’m ready,” I said.
I took a deep breath and….couldn’t do it.
I took another deep breath and….same thing happened.
Then I noticed my stomach was bleeding all over the place, because basically all I was doing was getting the needle to scrape off the first layer of skin and get all up in the nerves so it hurt really badly.
“I can’t do it,” I told Joey. “I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“Alright, then,” Joey said, his face automatically morphing into the Take The Bull By The Horns And Throw It Down look I see so often when it’s time for him to take charge. He grabbed the Follistim Pen, thumb on the injector button, and told me to look away. “And not in the mirror,” he said.
I fixed my eyes on one of the flowers in the shower curtain and waited.
WHAM.
Joey stabbed me right good with the pen and I yelled, “OW! That hurt! Deanine’s didn’t hurt!”
Then he pulled it out and disposed of the needle in the handy-dandy sharps container which resides on our bathroom counter. “Your stomach is bleeding,” he told me.
“Ewwww,” I said, and foolishly held an alcohol wipe to it to stop the bleeding.
“Did you freak out when you stabbed me? Was it really gross?” I asked Joey.
“I definitely had to psych myself up for it,” he said.
I’m not sure if I can do it. Holding a needle to your own stomach and trying to convince your brain to move the muscles in your arm necessary to insert the needle into your skin is a super hard psychological barrier to overcome. I think I’m OK with having Joey do the shooting up from here on out. I’m a big enough man to let him do it.
Almost immediately following the injection, the Follistim began to burn burn BURN like the Chicago fire. I was walking around the house half bent over until I realized that was probably not helping the medication distribute into my person, so I forced myself to stand up and walk normally.
“Yeah, it hurt way worse this time,” I told Joey.
I think he ignored me.
Poor guy. He needs your confidence so he can do it better next time:-) It’s real guilt inducing to have to stab someone, especially when you know it hurt! I think you’ll be able to do it soon, it’ll just take some getting used to:-)