Medical badass, at least on my terms
One of the side-effects of chemo is that it knocks down your white blood cell counts, and if the count is too low, your next session gets delayed. That’s what happened to me last week—what was supposed to be my second session last Tuesday got put off until yesterday.
Such a thing is pretty common but doesn’t happen to everybody. So now that the docs know it happens to me, I had two options . . . go back to the doctors office the day after chemo for a white cell booster shot, or get a preloaded shot I could give myself.
I opted for the latter and gave myself a shot today. Obviously the convenience of not going into the doctor’s office play a role, but the bigger motivation for doing it myself was something from when I was a kid—namely the dozens, maybe hundreds of times I saw my grandfather, a diabetic, check his blood sugar and inject himself with insulin. I figured if he could do that a couple times a day, every day, for decades, I can poke myself a measly ten times between now and the end of chemo.
Plus now I get to have a little plastic biohazard trash bin in my apartment, heh.
