Weeks pass - they come and go. Life is busy with work, family, friends, groceries, errands and everything in between. For some reason, every Tuesday, the world stands still just a little. Tuesday night is the dreaded Enbrel night. I started taking Enbrel in June of this year, to combat some of the damage RA has wreaked on my body. So far I have 1 replaced shoulder with one to go. I'd like to keep the joint replacements to a minimum, if possible.
Every Tuesday after dinner, I start thinking about it. And dreading it. Given my medical history of shoulder replacement, countless vials of blood, gestational diabetes and untold numbers of joint injections you would think that a little needle each week would not be an insurmountable task. Well, some weeks it is. At the beginning I would sit on the edge of my bed staring at my thigh for 20 minutes, willing myself to just get on with it. Other times, I would have my husband sit next to me so I would move it along a little faster.
It doesn't hurt that much. But I dread it nonetheless. In a week of moving from one thing to the next, and ignoring my RA, this causes me to pause and take a moment to consider my health. Sometimes I just don't want to do that.
Lately I've been getting better. The dread starts as I head up the stairs for bed. I quickly gather my alcohol wipes, kleenex (for the bleeders I have sometimes), a band-aid and my auto-injector of Enbrel. I take less than 3 minutes these days, and just right down to business. 1,2,3 and in she goes. I'm getting better at it, but that doesn't mean that I like it...