Step 1:  Hold syringe and pull cap directly down to expose needle

Step 2:  Continue to hold syringe and with the other hand grab a fold of stomach skin

Step 3:  While holding the stomach skin push needle into skin

Step 4:  Push down on the top of syringe and inject the fluid, stop once fluid is all gone

Step 5:  Let go of the stomach skin

Step 6:  Pull the syringe out of the stomach

This is my new circus trick.  I will be injecting myself with hormones three times a week.  These hormones will help me to produce red blood cells and carry oxygen around my body.  My lack of red blood cells is another side affect of saying goodbye to my kidneys.  Joy.

Today I did all my pre-admission tests for my next surgery and I jabbed myself with hormones for the first time.   After jabbing myself I cried.  I cried as I walked from the hospital to the train station.  It wasn’t a sobbing cry.  It was more of a silent cry, with stinging hot tears that rolled down my face.  Tears that I couldn’t stop.  Tears that I couldn’t control.  At first I thought they were tears of pure exhaustion from my long day at the hospital. But now upon reflection I think the tears were a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

Relief that I’m starting to understand my new world.  Relief that I’m starting to feel less like an intruder and more like part of a team.  The best thing that has happened on this journey, so far, is being fired by my first specialist.  My new specialist has taken me under her wing.  I feel protected and I feel that I now have someone in my corner.  Someone who truly cares, someone who listens and has no ego.

My new specialist has also shared her team with me.  And they are lovely!  I keep wondering why they are being so nice to me? But then I remember we all have the same mission.  We all have the same purpose.  We are all focused on saving my life.  Every test.  Every needle prick.  Every cut and every stitch are all for one thing.  To save my life.

This new team that I’m now a part of don’t know me like my friends or family know me.  Yet right now they understand me more than anyone else.  They understand what I’m going through.  They understand my battles. They understand what is behind me and what is ahead of me.  I also understand that I need them.  I need to be a part of this team to survive this journey.  I need to embrace them as part of my new world.  My new ordinary.  I need to cherish this new team and trust them.

Despite the pain and the exhaustion I can feel positivity creeping in.  I can feel the momentum of moving forward.  These past few weeks and the next few ahead will be chaotic.  Getting through two surgeries and starting dialysis is the hardest challenge of my life – so far.  But I feel as though I’m building my safety net.  A safety net of friends, family and now my medical team.  This safety net gives me courage and confidence to keep moving.  To keep fighting.

I feel lucky to have people in my corner cheering me on.  I owe my cheerleaders a lot.  I owe my cheerleaders my life.

I will rise to this challenge.  I’m not a quitter.

Keep cheering please.  I applaud you as I know it’s not an easy role to play.

I applaud you and I thank you, as I need you.  I’m not ready to perform without a safety net.

Not yet.