Disclaimer #1: The fact that we even have to talk about this is another reminder of how crude our therapy is. Don’t get me wrong – I’m thankful for every bit of therapy we have (a century ago we’d all be dead), but it’s still pretty damn barbaric.
Jabbing a needle in fast (usually) hurts much less than inserting it slowly. I have known this, logically, for as long as I can remember. But that didn’t help me and my fine motor skills actually jab the needle in quickly.
I had never been able to get past some subconscious fear that I would “hit” something important, which would hurt like hell and surely kill me. Silly, I know, but …?
When George was here, Scott Strange & Chris Bishop drove up to experience some of George’s magical personality. At breakfast on Sunday I watched Dr. Strange whip out his Symlin pen, jab it in his leg, and before I could say “ouch!” he was done!
I was awestruck, and a bit jealous. Every time I take my Symlin it is always some huge ordeal that takes me forever, hurts (because I’m a “slow poke”), and often times justifies me just skipping it. I thought “damn! I wish I could do that!”
Fast forward a few weeks. Rachel Baumgartel and her husband, who lives with type 1, stopped through Minneapolis while on vacation. We got together for a brief visit before they took off again. We talked about pumping versus multiple daily injections, as well as CGM’s and blogging about diabetes.
One of the things that Mr. Baumgartel said that stuck with me is “I just don’t care”. We were talking about how his Lantus shot stings — the actual insulin stings as he’s injecting it. But he doesn’t care. Which is a good point – it’s not like he can not take it just because it stings a bit. And all things relative, does it really hurt bad enough to make a big deal out of?
So I think about Scott & G each time I bravely jab my Symlin pen in, and I thank them both for helping me find the courage to be strong and push through my fears.
Disclaimer #2: Sometimes, even when I jab the needle in, it hurts like crazy. But I don’t care.
Yeah, I have joined the “i don’t care” mdi camp. sometimes i’ll give myself 3 different injections for one meal. i don’t even think about it, because, like you say, what’s there to really think about? and this is from someone who was so traumatized (and full of misguided self-importance) that I VIDEOED myself the first time I gave myself an insulin injection, as though it was some awesome thing that only I had ever done. Now I do it in the car, walking around, on planes, whatever (pretty much anywhere except bathrooms). I find that things like that tend… Read more »
Ooooh man, I’ve heard Symlin burns like a mofo….so good for you, no matter how you stick yourself! I find that a good old “1, 2, 3!” countdown helps….as well as forcing myself to laugh if any needle stick hurts more than usual. (It works more as distraction than as an analgesic, I admit….)
Scott, I was a slow “pusher” when I started giving shots, until I hit college. Then I just woman-ed up and jabbed it in. I think I did it because I was starting to have scar tissue, and the push seemed to take longer and longer each injection. Literally. I would have a needle pressing against my leg for like 10 seconds before it would break through the skin. (Ah, syringes of the olden days 🙂 I’ve evolved. I used Quick sets for all those years because I couldn’t fathom having to insert manually. Then I had a bunch of… Read more »
I really liked the “slow poke” pun. Even with my quick serter, I’ll end up stewing about it for a few minutes and I will usually mess up and press one button before the other and I have to pull it back OR I end up pressing the other button right after and it goes in weird.
When I was using the pens, I used to stare at the needle for 5 minutes straight, feeling all dizzy, So I feel ya’!
I’m a slow poke too! Now with infusion sets (I use the Inset from Animas) I examine my skin, prep the site, place the set, hold my breath, count to 10, and click! I guess some of us are just a little more cautious in our “not caring”.