Daily Routine

If anybody had told me a few years ago that I would be injecting myself daily, I'd have started worrying straight away.  I'm sure at one stage I suffered with trypanophobia.  I clearly remember as a young boy hiding under the G.P.'s desk to avoid being given an inoculation for a trip to Spain in the 1970s.  My attitude to needles has changed; I even managed to take a photograph of the cannula being inserted into my arm more recently while the practice nurse was taking blood.  In fact, were it not for a regular blood test my prostate cancer would not have been identified so soon and led to my subsequent diagnosis and treatment.

Still, injecting myself each evening with anti coagulant for a month is a clear step up in my appreciation of needles.  After the initial injection my main difficulty has been finding a site on my stomach more than two inches from one of the 6 wounds from where the laparoscopic tools were inserted.  My hat goes off to people who must do this every day.  I remember how stoic my Mum was when she started having to inject insulin in her 80s.  Interestingly enough when she finally got her diet under control and lost some weight she was able to stop completely.

A very windy day.  I stayed inside albeit for collecting the wheelie bins that had blown over as soon as their contents were emptied into the refuse vehicle and returned to the kerb.