The First Shot Is The Deepest

I checked my purse several times to make sure that my Epi-Pen was in place. Convinced this poster above my hospital bed was an actual sign from God that IMPENDING DOOM was headed my way. I was waiting to go across the hall for the injection in my Sacroiliac Joint. (yes, I cried when the stuck the needle in the first and second time. And yes I said "Can we be done now please" in a voice that can only be described as half whimper half Cocker Spaniel) I studied it for a awhile and debated on whether I should steal it and tack it on my fridge at home...After all, anxious and scared, along with not understanding why my body is deciding to be a major asshole since August 18th seems to be my new decorating theme (along with Fentanyl patches and Lidoderm wrappers, and assorted bottles of pain pills that stop working and make ER trips a new part of my life.


And then I thought if I mention feeling anything on the poster, they just might wheel me up to the psych ward...I am looking a little crazy these days...but at least it would a change of scenery for bed-rest...hmmm