Jelly of the Month This Ain't

Forty-three days ago, I started the process of enrolling on a clinical study. I was told it would be totally randomized, and it was the unspoken knowledge that I would get the oral medicine, or nothing. My mind was made up. I'd done injections before, and I wasn't going back to needles. Nope, not me, not gonna do it.

So today, I go to the office for my randomization. I just knew I'd get Gilenya. I KNEW it. Two out of three, right?

I get randomized for Copaxone. One out of three chance for Copaxone, one out of THREE! The injection. The one with the needles. Not a pill to swallow, but medicine delivered by stinkin' INJECTION! My first answer was NOPE. Not gonna take it. I'm pretty sure there's a mark in the carpet from where I dug in my heels.

Then I asked for a minute to think. I talked with myself. Circumstances are totally different from the first time I tried to do medicine through injection. The first time I tried it, I was newly diagnosed, my husband was working nights, and I had a one-year-old baby. Now, my “baby” is 9, and my daughter is almost 12. My husband is home at night. I've been diagnosed for almost 11 years. Huge differences. Millions of miles different.

I said “Fudge it”. Only I didn't say fudge. I'm gonna try it.

The biggest reason being that all of the hoops I had to jump through, all the hurdles I leaped, all the mishaps, setbacks and weirdness that happened in these forty-three days all seemed to be saying “don't take Gilenya”. I don't know why, because I absolutely despised giving myself a shot. Despised, abhorred, detested, HATED injecting myself. But here I am, starting a medicine that requires injecting. Every. Single. Day.

Now for the nitty gritty of it. I got the first injection at the doctor's office earlier today. You're supposed to let Copaxone warm to room temperature before you give yourself the injection. That is supposed to lessen the sting. The doctor's office didn't do that, and let me tell you, you'd better believe I'll wait in the future. The shot itself felt like nothing; the needle is SO tiny, I think two strands of my hair are thicker. I even said that it was GREAT during the delivery of the medicine. Then came the sting/burn/pain. It literally (not figuratively, literally) made me gasp and took my breath away. My face contorted to the point that my contact said, “Oh, that is NOT a good look for you.” It felt like I had been injected with battery acid or something. I can handle pain. Both of my children were born naturally, and drug-free. But this-this was insanely intense! About 20-40 minutes later, the sting/burn/pain was mostly gone. I'd get twinges for maybe an hour, but mostly, I was fine.

But, tomorrow I get to do it again! Tomorrow I'll wait the 20 minutes. Tomorrow I'll do it at night to minimize feeling the side effects, but I have to admit, I'm feeling okay. I had a headache earlier, but I took some ibuprofen, and now it's gone. Plus, I'm not 100% positive the headache was from the injection.

I'm using a different vehicle to continue my journey to feeling better, but I will feel better. Or I won't, and we'll try a different medicine. Something is going to work for me.