One Week Down, X to Go

Almost one week ago today, I started the Rebif injections. So far I've done three. I was right - this is not the most fun thing I've ever done. That being said...

I must be brutally honest here. While I would prefer not to be doing this at all, the manufacturers really have made this as "painless" as possible. There is nothing to mix; the syringes come pre-filled. The need is ultra-fine (29mm), much smaller than the needle used for flue shots, and I don't think that is particularly painful. Banish thoughts of jabbing yourself and pushing the plunger down. All you do is cock the auto-injector, drop in the syringe, yank off the needle cap (this part occasionally doesn't work so well, but you can get the cap off manually if necessary), swab some alcohol, position the injector, push the button. A tiny prick and 10 seconds later, you're done. And actually, you don't really need to wait 10 seconds; when a series of black lines shows up in the injector window, the syringe is empty. No fuss, no muss. Blot the dot of blood, take the syringe out of the injector, throw it in the sharps container, go to bed.

Three doses in, I haven't noticed any side effects. I had achy knee joints the first two nights, but I have no idea if that was because of the meds or because, well, my knees are twice as old as the rest of me and ache in damp weather. Regardless, two Tylenol killed the pain enough for me to sleep like a rock. The regimen builds up the dosage slowly (8 mcg for 2 weeks, 22 mcg for 2 weeks, then 44 mcg) to minimize effects, but so far, so good.

And the syringes came with a sharps container. Now I just need to find out the rules on how to get rid of it.

So all in all, I'm thinking if you absolutely have to do this, this would be the preferred method. Now if I could just get the friggin' cap remover to work, I'd be golden.

Oh, and the kids? Well, that concern evaporated. I told The Girl a few days before the meds showed up. I had to make some phone calls in front of her, and I didn't want her to freak out about me talking about needles and injections. She took it pretty well and said as long as I wasn't going to panic, she wouldn't. Smart kid.

Of course, the following Monday night when the nurse showed up to do the injection training, both kids crowded around the dining room table. "Whatcha doing, Mama? Can I watch? Can I see?" It was kind of like a freak show at the circus. For the sake of my concentration, I sent them back to Webkinz World. Sheesh. Who knew watching me give test injections to an orange could be so fascinating?

Oh yeah, and my bp after all this was 100/66 and resting pulse 74, so clearly I was neither stressed at the time, nor am I at risk of falling over dead from hypertension.

There was also a moment of morbid humor. The first couple times, the needle was bent when I removed the syringe. However, the syringe was empty and there was no liquid on my skin or the floor, so I concluded it had successfully been injected. In musing over this, I remarked that at least I hadn't wasted $4,000. At The Hubby's blank look, I explained each dose was about $2,000. After a moment, he said, "Jeez, babe, the wheelchair would be cheaper." I was not amused. My boss was not amused. My friend at work, who admittedly has a rather black sense of humor, thought it was hilarious. Perhaps I just needed to look at it in retrospect, he said. Been almost a week; still not that funny.

Now for the irritating part. As I mentioned in my last post, I have told very few people - only you my gentle readers, family, my best friend (sort of) and a few folks at work. The Hubby, however, appears to have taken out a full page ad in the Tribune-Review. A long-time friend of his who visited last weekend, another guy he met in the Army, the former Religious Education director at the kids' school (who has probably told his wife), and I think both of the neighbors. I only found out about this because I was poking around trying to find out how to dispose of a sharps container, and he said, "Why don't you ask Maria?" Come to find out he was talking about me to Maria's husband, the Religious Ed guy. This is a man who won't put my picture on his desk at work or talk about me to co-workers because his relationship with his wife is "private."

I'm rather miffed about it. I mean I know all these folks. They are nice people. But this is my health. I'm the one who ought to be telling people about it, in my own time and in my own way. I have no idea how discreet any of these folks really are, so now I have to assume that they, in turn, have told other people. And frankly, I don't feel like being a topic of conversation for other people, some of whom are potentially people who I don't really trust all that much. Wonderful.

So on the plus side, injections not that bad (so far). On the negative side, I feel like I've lost control of who knows what about my personal life. I guess batting .500 ain't so bad.