When I was a little girl dreaming of being a mother someday, I vividly recall those lazy summer afternoons where I would lay out in the sun and daydream about my husband jabbing a lengthy needle into my butt cheek.
FALSE. I did not dream of that.
Friday, John and I went up to OHSU for our "injection training" workshop. First of all, let me just say that if I was not 100% committed to having a baby this whole process would have come to a screeching, screeching halt. I should also like to mention that I am not in the least afraid of needles, so I imagine this next leg of the journey probably carries a whole new reign of terror for women who are.
I love my husband. He has two favorite days of the year--the first day of March Madness and the second day of March Madness. However, instead of spending an indulgent Friday morning watching four college basketball teams, he spent the morning in a cold, clinical, joyless room with myself and Nurse Ratched up at OHSU. He also kept an excellent attitude through it all, and his only concern was learning how to do the injections properly so he would not cause me physical and emotional duress when he begins sticking my with various needles and syringes.
Our nurse, who was clearly inconvenienced by our presence, went through a rapid fire demonstration of how to give each of the four types of medicine. In an unprecedented victory, I picked up on the subtle nuances of needle stabbing much quicker than John. The delicious irony of course is that it doesn't particularly matter what I learned, since he will be the one administering the shots.
Our next stop was the hospital pharmacy. After waiting in the "drop off" line for 30 minutes to be informed that our insurance would not be paying for even a penny (we knew that) we got to wait in the "pick up" line for another 15 minutes. Sigh. We left with a brown grocery bag filled to the top with a plethora of syringes, needles, and vials of medicine, and an additional little pink bag that had the additional distinction of needing to be refrigerated.
The bad news is that I had hoped to start the scary meds during spring break and get a lot of that done while I was not in the proximity of children. Unfortunately, my body calls the shots on the timing and my body says they start on Saturday. I can hardly wait!
FALSE. I can wait.
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