Needle alert!

Let it be known that I am afraid of needles.

I spent much of my childhood dreading shots. Then, when the fateful day would come, I would grip someone’s hand until it would fall off from lack of circulation while I cried until I felt like puking.

So when several years ago I was told that I needed to give myself shots (methotrexate!) I was, to put it mildly, perturbed.

Since then, I have injected methotrexate, then humira, then methotrexate again, and now I’m up to Cimzia.

Here’s the thing about Cimzia. First off, it’s refrigerated. Meaning when it comes time for shots, I can’t just do it. I have to wait for it to warm up a little first. It’s sort of like those horror movies where nothing happens until the last fifteen minutes, but you get so freaked out WAITING for it to happen that even if you don’t have Crohn’s you still end up with your stomach in knots running for the bathroom.

Right when you’re all worked up into a state, you open the box and see… IT. THE SYRINGE. I don’t know what product design was thinking, but these syringes are scary. I took a picture, then realized it didn’t do justice. So I took another picture next to a pen so you can see “actual size” Cimzia.

Destination... bloodstream.

This syringe would beat up that pen in a bar fight.

Ok. Explain to me. WHY do I need a giant handle on my giant syringe? Is this so that my grip is better when I stalk Cimzia professionals and force them to take… their… medicine…???

So here you are. It’s a good thing you have an ostomy, because otherwise you’d be crapping yourself in fear. Your eyes are full of tears… tears of FEAR. You latch on to the big-ass syringe and go for the kill…

BUT WAIT.

You have to inject at a 45 degree angle!

Where did I put my protractor??? I knew math wasn’t my best subject.

TO BE CONTINUED….