● Lady Percy moves me - might she move you? CLICK TO FIND OUT
● Plus my novels, stories, verse, vulgar interests, apologies, and singing.
● Most posts are 300 words. I respond to all comments/re-comments.
● See Tone Deaf in New blogger.


Friday, 31 December 2021

Nothing to it. Oh yeah

It still looks a bit deadly, nevertheless

I realise this will be old hat to some diabetes sufferers but it was new to me. And initially horrifying.

As a parting gift from the hospital I was handed half a dozen boxes containing 56 bubble-packed syringes (ie, two a day). An important course of an anti-clotting agent.

To be self-administered!

What? By me? Just a minute…

A nurse did the first jab as a demo. Just recently I’ve been jabbed and re-jabbed many times and this one was nothing new. Hardly felt it. Ho-hum. But the nurse returned 12 hours later to supervise my first self-jab. Distant visions of that Japanese movie devoted to seppuku (self-swording) floated through my mind. Especially since the jab target would be a flap of flesh otherwise known my belly.

Tentatively I pinched up the fold, pushed (at right-angles as ordered), saw the flesh dent, got ready to plunge. “All the way in with the needle,” said an authoritative voice. Oh, no!

Truth to tell, everything possible is done to make things easy for the amateur. One pulls a protective shield from a needle that seems finer than a hair from my head. Plunger and finger-stop fit neatly and naturally. Done correctly there is hardly any sensation, let alone pain. Afterwards, another hard push on the plunger brings up another sheath to protect the needle. And the whole course comes with several special garbage cans so that the syringes may be disposed of safely.

And the procedure does get easier. This morning I did it in the half-light.

Even so, there’s still that twinge of apprehension as the needle point approaches the unwilling flesh. And the dent is mildly shocking to watch. But I’ve done about ten jabs now and will finish the course.

Hey-ho cowardy-custard. 

13 comments:

  1. I did this for my wife, last year. The first time I was more anxious than she, an ex nurse! she cannot manage such herself due to arthritis in hands.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well done. Should you ever have to do this really long term, get the pen version. No visible needle, no push.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sabinw: Coloured in baby-pink I would hope.

      Delete
    2. Not sure about the colours, mine are greenish, but mostly they are white.
      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Injector_pen

      Delete
  3. I got a little queasy just reading this description. But, after I got through your first jab and read how well it went, I was relieved. Excellent job with that jab there. Hope the next few days go well for you. Happy New Year!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. robin andrea: As I say, things have improved. But it's never something I look forward to.

      Delete
  4. Robbie! Welcome to the club. After my cast came off, I had to do this, too. Luckily, I'm very near-sighted, and that together with low lighting and soft music helped me find the rhythm as quickly as you have. I'm proud of you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Zu Schwer: But wasn't there a risk of sticking the needle into the wrong part?

      Delete
    2. My belly is big enough that there was never any danger of missing :)
      I'm fine with needles as long as I don't look.
      Happy Year of the Tiger by the way!!

      Delete
  5. Replies
    1. Colettte: No quite. Rather: Hmmm. Now did that hurt or not?

      Delete
  6. Self-administration of such things seems... a bit nauseating. Glad you have overcome the cowardly custard role, I suppose--prefer to remain one myself.

    ReplyDelete