Dave always gives them to me.
Because I am like livestock and dogs
and he is good at giving shots to those types of creatures.
And it's insanely romantico.
So, I rushed home.
Got home at 6:40.
He wasn't home.
Dave is on call.
He had 723 more calls to do before he gets home.
He told me those dreaded words.
That I'd have to give the shot
(For those of you that do this all the time, fellow infertility-ants or diabetics, I apologize. I know most of you do this all the time. Just ignore my ramblings.)
I am a teacher.
I know how to teach Guided Reading
and give DIBELS
and how to use manipulatives to teach division.
NOT give shots.
But, I pulled myself up by my boot straps.
I grew some huevos
and gave myself the shot.
|Taken from my pharmacy's videos of how to give yourself a shot. If you want to watch the whole thing, let me know. Or, for a price, I can do live shows, too.|
And it didn't even hurt at all.
I just didn't look
and jammed that guy into my belly
and prayed to the good Lord that that liquid gold would flow quickly to my follicles that are on an IEP.
And, to be honest,
I am proud of myself.
I did something that I never thought I could do.
It's amazing what this journey will do to you.
The only problem during the whole thing?
The needle bent.
When it rammed into my abs of steel.