Today I have to go to the doctor's and get a shot. (Boo because I hate hate hate needles. Even still. Even after being poked a million times. Still hate them!)
This shot is medicine that I'm pretty sure comes with a novel that lists the possible side effects.
I feel like I'm now one of those people in medicine commercials you laugh at. You know what I'm talking about, right? The side effect list seems to go on forever and run across the screen over-layed on a really pretty picture. And it all seems funny because the side effects seem way worse than what the medicine is treating.
Trust me, I've laughed my fair share. I've mused aloud about who would ever take the medicine because the issues seems easier than the medicine would be.
I suppose I became that person the second I took chemo. I remember thinking about how ironic it was that the doctors were telling me that another cancer was a side effect and I just couldn't wrap my mind around it. I mostly ignored it because it just too much to think about. I also understood that even though they had to tell me the side effects, there was little chance that it would actually happen to me ::knock on wood::.
But Tuesday I'm going in with my eyes wide open. I've looked on-line and read the awful horror stories. The doctors have talked to me about what could possibly happen that's pretty major. And there's more of a risk than getting cancer from chemo drugs.
People who have opinions that I seek out have said they wouldn't get the medicine if it were them. My husband isn't thrilled I'm getting it and would be very happy if I told him I changed my mind.
And yet, I'm going to let the doctor give me this shot.
I also read stories about people who had almost no side effects from it. The doctor gave me the option of another medicine and after comparing, I decided on the shot. But secretly, I'm so nervous to go. I'm worried that I'll make everything worse and compound my already stupid medical issues.
To be honest, I'm pissed I have to even need to think about this. I'm frustrated with my own body. I think it's super unfair that at 37 I learned I have osteoporosis and because I want to, I don't know, take a bike ride with my kids when summer rolls around, I have to do something to treat it. But because of my age, I only have two options. Neither of which excite me or make me happy.
When the doctor called to let me know that I had osteoporosis (when I was just getting a dexa scan as a baseline), I'm not going to lie: I cried. And cried. And cried. I mean full on sobbing.
It's another thing to deal with.
It's another pre-existing condition in my medical file.
It's more doctors appointments.
It's more medicines.
It's more co-pays.
It's more worry.
Not to seem overly emotional about this, but I'M SO OVER THIS CRAP.
So today, I'm going to feel like I belong in a commercial. One that I would have laughed at in what feels like another life time. This time I'm not laughing though. Sigh.