Tomorrow is seven weeks on my medicine.
It was a rough start, then it was going well, until it wasn't going well. I now have to take a Benadryl one to two hours before my shot, and I'm waking up still itchy. Last night's shot had burning pain and itching that I felt until I mercifully fell asleep. I'm not grooving on this Copaxone stuff right now. I'm willing to give it another couple of months to see if the ill effects subside. Or I die of anaphylaxis. Either way, we'll know, right?
I don't feel the same energy boost I used to, but it might be that I'm feeling groggy from taking the Benadryl every night. Or that I'm tired of dealing with the side effects. Whatever the case may be, I'm still willing to keep at it, which is a rarity for me. Giving myself a shot is not my strong point.
But I'm not going to write another entirely whiny post. Not today, anyway. Today I want to talk about something entirely different.
Have you thought about how much faith and trust we put in other drivers? The total strangers with whom we share the road?
There is a particular curve near my house, and every time I approach this curve, I'm apprehensive because I have the vision of another car swerving into oncoming traffic because he tried to negotiate the curve while going too fast. Of course that doesn't happen, but when possible, I change into the right lane, just in case. We trust that other drivers will not cross the double yellow lines. We trust that the car behind us will stop in time at the red light.
About the only time I don't have faith in other drivers is when I'm at certain stop signs. You must have one near you, the stop sign that seems optional. Many of them are optional sometimes, but you know, the one that people forget is there, or it's partially blocked by a tree, or it seems useless so it seems like no one ever stops there. Those are the ones I never believe in. Those stop signs are where I lose my faith in other drivers.
What about when you're sitting at an intersection with four-way stop signs, and you see a car coming really fast down the cross street, and you're not sure if he will stop or not? If he didn't stop, you wouldn't have enough time to make it if you crossed, but you end up sitting there for what feels like an hour. Sometimes he stops, sometimes he doesn't. If he does stop, sometimes I cross that intersection so slowly I even aggravate myself. Yea, I know it's wrong, but it's one of my vices.
Don't be that guy, and I won't be that guy. Deal?
No comments:
Post a Comment