A couple days ago I had a moment. A moment that I never really had before. It was 10:30 and time to give myself my last insulin shot of the day. Like always I looked down at my ten fingers and thought hard about what finger I was going to poke. I seem to always pick my left middle finger. After checking my blood sugar I prepared to give myself a needle. I fixed the needle on the end of the insulin pen, shot one unit in the air to avoid air bubbles and pressed the needle into the skin I bunched up on my stomach. It hurt, it hurt so bad I decided I wasn't going to give myself a needle in that spot, my dad encouraged me to just do it and it would be fine. I pressed the needle onto the left side of my stomach but it stung, so I pulled it out. I still hadn't given myself my 11 units of insulin and I was ready to give up.
At this moment I thought, "I can't do this anymore!" I was frustrated beyond frustrated and I didn't know what to do. For some reason despite already giving myself approximately 244 needles I didn't want to do it again. It was only for that quick moment that I had given up, but something pulled me back up. I bunched my skin and stuck the needle in, I pushed the button to disperse the insulin and then pulled it out. It was painful, the spot stings and you can feel it but it's a pain that soon will just be another feeling that I am used to.
The needle doesn't always hurt but at times it is like a bee sting. You can feel it more when you've pulled it out and it often bruises or bleeds. It's hard to look at my stomach, the dots, bruises and spots but I know that it is for my safety and well being.