I purchased a hyper potion at the PokéMart about three months ago.
(Technically, its official name is Kevzara, and I got it from CVS Specialty Pharmacy—but that’s boring. Bear with me as I romanticize my biweekly injection, and pretend I’m living in Pallet Town.)
I’ve had a hard time with injections in the past. When I was a kid, my dad did my Enbrel and Humira shots. Twice a week, we’d sit down in the kitchen together and ceremoniously take out the gauze, alcohol swabs, and other supplies. I was an extremely unwilling participant.
Several years later, I graduated to an IV infusion called Remicade. This process was a little different; once a month, I’d be dropped off at the pediatric treatment center. They’d let me choose a DVD, and I’d bring along some chow mein from Panda Express. The nurse would give me pre-meds, a heating pad for my arm. They’d hang the baggie of mystery saline mix. I’d have a midday snooze. I found comfort in the padded recliner and low beeping of the heart rate monitor, and became friends with many of the nurses. I got to choose from the prize box at the end.
Whether or not it was a shot in the thigh twice a week or a four hour long infusion, I adapted to the drill each time. There were pros and cons regardless–a bruise, a panic attack, a blown vein or a wasted afternoon.
Most recently, I was on a daily pill called Rinvoq. In my opinion, that was an excellent advancement in medicine, and my personal favorite treatment so far. No needles, no stress. It worked pretty well for pretty long, and carried me from pre-pandemic to last summer. But, similar to the U.S. President, it reached its four year term and was booted out of office. Then, my doctor suggested Kevzara.
(This is sounding like an ad for Kevzara. It’s not, I promise. Consult with your doctor and make your own medical decisions please.)
Truthfully, I was not cool with this plan. Rinvoq had made me soft–I was used to the good life of oral medication. Kevzara, the hottest new drug on the market, was an injection, and I was rusty with those. Plus, this time, I’d have to do it myself. I fought my doctor, and we held off treatment for months because of my fears. I held out hope that Rinvoq would last a little longer, even when signs were obviously the opposite. I wondered if I could ask someone to help me.
Then, I realized I just needed to take charge.
The first time was hard.
The second time was nearly impossible.
The third time, I got the drill.
Being supercharged is like sunshine.
We’ve been having a lot of rain in San Francisco recently, and as any Arthritic old person will tell you, we can feel it in our knees. I know the New Yorkers are scoffing at me right now, complaining about the weather. The Canadians and the Irish are laughing under their big puffer coats, their eyebrows frozen and their whiskey hot.
It has been weeks of rain. Gray skies and seasonal depression, not wanting to leave bed for food or friends or exploration. Feeling sad, secluded and stuck indoors. After enough time passes, you kind of forget that there’s a whole world out there. You forget that your legs still work, and they can carry you anywhere as long as you have a destination in mind. You forget that there is a life without pain–I mean, rain.
Right before it rains, there’s beautiful warm air. There is a calmness, then a shifting in the energies. It starts lightly, before ramping up intensity like a chorus or symphony. Then, it’s thunderous; it’s torrential.
Sometimes, too much rain is intolerable. Your house could flood, causing thousands in damages. Your plants could drown. You could be highly deficient in vitamin D. You could lose sight of a time where you were not soggy.
Rain is a part of life. There are parts of it that I don’t mind at all; the sound it makes on my skylight; how the clouds change color, and the world feels momentarily full of drama; how people sink into the shadows, living life by cozy blankets and candlelight and cups of tea. My favorite part, though, is when it clears, and the earth feels fresh and reborn. It serves as a reminder of the life-giving rays of the sun.
Pain is rain.
With every dose of Kevzara, I’m having more sunny days. I’m finally about to go outside again, and I have the energy to enjoy it. According to my sharps container, I’ve done approximately ten shots. And according to my doctor, we’ve given the meds enough time to fully kick in and reveal its efficacy and compatibility with my immune system.
I’m having so much fun re-discovering my abilities, interests, and goals for the future. I’ve been able to create art and show up at work regularly as my newly energized self. I’ve spent less time worrying and more time walking around the neighborhood. I’m finding joy in simple moments, like exercising without crippling joint pain. I’ve stopped carrying an umbrella.
My boyfriend and I lovingly refer to shot Sundays as ‘getting supercharged’, flipping the script and replacing a dreaded task with optimism and cheer. It’s made the actual shot process a lot easier, too, strengthening my confidence and pride each time I’m able to do it myself.
Is it fun? Absolutely not.
If I’m honest, I still really dislike shots. It still makes me mad that there hasn’t been a cure discovered, or at least a gummy bear version of the drug. I’m still frustrated with insurance companies and copays and side effects. I still get a little freaked out by the needle, and a little lightheaded. But do I feel empowered and physically improved by the end of it? Hell yes.
Do I also buy Pokemon bandaids and post-shot treats? Also yes.
A dear friend of mine asked me this the other day:
‘What is the spiritual or human or natural resource (or set of resources) that sustains your spirits through these rough landscapes? A particular interest of mine… learning what North Stars people have as they navigate through this often challenging life.’
I have been stargazing with this friend. He taught me a lot about the planet and people, the importance of astrology, and spirituality. He is someone I admire and respect, so his question took some serious thought.
The sun is my North Star.
Xx
Lil
lilstargirl 
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