So this morning, I had a job interview for which I had to juggle my first injection. Then, I raced across town and up the highway to the NIH campus.
As I was taking the exit, my son’s school called to inform me of his tummy ache. “I can’t reschedule this,” is what I’m thinking; the procedure is Tuesday. Thankfully, he will lay in the nurse’s office until I make it there. I aim for 1:30.
Fast forward to the injection. I get goodies since my early-morning granola bar has long worn off. Sarah and I chat about my interview and weekend plans. She gives me a kit for the nurse to continue injections in my home. I watch an episode of Sex and the City and I am excused.
It’s a good thing I picked him up early. About three hours post injection I am feeling oogy. My bones are achy, I’m tired and cranky. Coupled with my son’s complaints, I thought it would be a long night. However, my daughter and I got cozy to watch a women’s college volleyball match that I dvr’ed (her HS season just ended). Everyone fell asleep by 8:30.
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