Alright, I have to admit I’ve been a bit of a slacker at updating this blog in real time. By now, I’ve (almost) become a pro at injecting myself with Enbrel, but I wanted to share my experience of my first injection.
OK, so first the good news. After some runaround with my insurance (and contemplating the worst case scenario of having to move back home because of expensive drugs), I got approved for Enbrel at only $30 per month. I was thrilled. I immediately filled my prescription.
Now the not so fun part… I went to the nurse to learn how to inject myself. I was nervous. I hate needles. In fact, one time, when my little sister was about 7 and I was 16, the nurse had me get my flu shot first to show her how “easy” it was. I nearly fainted. (Embarrassing, I know.)
Anyway, the nurse was very sweet. She sat with me and gave me all the information – the injection sites (I’ll go for the thigh, thank you very much, the stomach still freaks me out), warming the Enbrel to room temperature, possible problems and side effects (that part was scary). Then she informed me that I would be giving myself my first injection.
I went a little pale. Yes, I know I was there to learn how to do it, but I thought she would just tell me and then give me the shot. After all, it was my first one! But no, the nurse kindly informed me that “it doesn’t matter how long it takes – and there are no cameras in the room, so if I want to cry, I can cry – but I wouldn’t be leaving without giving myself a shot.”
I gulped. We practiced with a needleless pen. The thing I had the most trouble with was applying the right amount of pressure and not getting startled by the “click” noise. Finally, I felt I was ready (mind you, this was about an hour later). I got the pen ready, held with one hand perpendicular to my thigh, the pressure making the blue tip disappear into my skin. Then with the other hand I pulled the trigger (OK, that’s a little dramatic, I just pressed the blue button). I heard the click, counted to 15, and watched the blue replace the clear liquid in the pen’s window. Then I released, my first shot over, a spot of blood on my thigh.
Yes, it hurt. Yes, it was gross. Yes, I was a bit shaky and white. But I was elated and proud. I had “graduated” from stab school. I had conquered my fear. And hopefully this was the beginning of beating my RA into remission.