dropping a leg

I am in the 26th week of daily injections of my disease modifying drug, Copaxone. I inject in seven different places - in a seven day rotation. The reason for this rotation is to save my skin, and lower the risks of having permanent dents in my skin. nice.

My injections have been exceptionally painful from the beginning. I rate each injection on a scale of 1 -10, and keep track of the pain, and any reactions that I may have. I was told that because I have fair skin, I suffer from what the drug company calls "uncomfortable reactions", and that they typically subside in six months.

...22,23,24,25,26. Nope, the pain has not gotten any better. Actually, upon the advice of the drug company, I have "dropped a leg" out of the rotation, because my left thigh in particular gives me grief: welts, rash, intense pain. The pain is so bad that it makes me cry. I have to set aside a little less than an hour every night to ice the site, inject, (wipe up the tears) and ice it again.

My "personal nurse" from the drug company has a standard set of questions that she asks at certain parts along the "injection journey". The most frequent, and strangest question these days is, "What makes you go on with the injections?" Oh yeah, and "How do you do it (the injection) everynight?".

hmmmm.

Emily

confiscated

On Saturday, against the Tampa Rays, Alex Rodriguez's baseball bat was ordered confiscated by the opposing teams manager.

Now - this was done following the confiscation of a Tampa Rays bat - maybe a bit tit-for-tat.
However, A-Rod did hit a home run with said bat in a prior inning.

hmmmmm.

Imagining that I instigated this,

Emily

my job and plastic surgery

I don't think that I mentioned here that I had made an attempt at returning to work, only to step back at the beginning of July - with the full support of insurance company that pays my long term disability. I was to take this time, until mid September, to organize my life, and get a better handle on day to day living. At that time, I had started work with two of my own clients at work, and I wanted to finish working with them.

Well, it is now the first of September, and I am still working with one of those clients. I have invested alot of hours into spending his money, and creating a stylish and sexy showhome for him (he is only going to live in this condo for four years, and then he will be off to California, reinventing the highly sought after breasts of Hollywood). I have put in these hours for personal reasons (no, I don't want a boob job), I want fantastic photos for my portfolio.

While working with this single client, I have come to realize that returning to my job on a full time basis may be impossible. Realizing this, means that I have accepted that something happened to me in June of 2006, that has permanent repercussions.

I do often find myself in the middle of dangerous, negative self-talk regarding my future. I wish that I had an arm that doesn't move, instead of a brain that does not recognize and comprehend the visual clues around me (visual clues are transferred from my eyes to my brain and they tell me movement, direction, placement, speed etc).

I have never doubted my talents. But now I question my ability to use my talents in a fast paced, me-centric world - and make a decent living.

Thank goodness I don't need money for plastic surgery!

I am who I am,

Emily