This blog article is sponsored by Portal Instruments. All opinions and experiences shared are my own.
I’ll always remember how I felt the moment I was told I needed to go on a biologic drug to try and manage and control my Crohn’s disease. It was Fourth of July weekend 2008. My gastroenterologist walked into my hospital room and told me it was time to “break out the big guns,” meaning starting to get medication through an infusion or through a self-injection. I was a morning news anchor at the time in Wisconsin, three years into my patient journey. I knew without a doubt, for privacy reasons, and keeping my chronic health issue under the radar, that doing an injection in the comfort of my apartment was the best choice. As I watched the fireworks reflect off the hospital room window with my mom, tears flowed down my face. I didn’t know how on God’s green Earth I was ever going to be able to give myself an injection for the rest of my life.
I was never a huge fan of needles prior to my diagnosis. Once you have Inflammatory Bowel Disease, needles unfortunately are all part of it. While we may get desensitized, patients would give anything to be able to treat their disease without needles. When I started on my biologic, my mom and I went to my gastroenterologist office and a nurse told me I needed to do four, painful injections in my thighs because at the time I didn’t have enough fat on my stomach. I was shaking like a leaf. I had no idea what to expect, I was about to inflict pain on myself, the injector felt so foreign in my sweaty palms, and I was scared about not only how much it was going to hurt, but also the long-term side effects the medication could cause to my body.
I did the first injection and it felt like liquid fire burning through my skin. I couldn’t believe I had to sit there and do three more, back…to back…to back. The experience was traumatizing. When I finally did all four, my mom and I walked into the hallway and I embraced her, crying because of my reality, and knowing that in two weeks I would need to inject two more needles into my thighs for the final loading dose. Since July 2008, I’ve done a self-injection every other Monday and for a short time weekly, while I was flaring. That’s more than 2,600 shots.
Dreading “shot day”
The first few years I would absolutely dread my “shot day” and deal with the looming dread each week. Early on I would get emotional during the process and feel bad for myself. I was only 25 years old. It made me feel like I was a sickly person. My peers couldn’t relate. It was isolating and overwhelming. Every time I open my fridge, the box of injections is staring back at me as a constant reminder of what’s to come.
Doing my injections as an IBD mom
Fast forward to present day, I’m now a 38-year-old mom of three. Luckily, the formula for the medication was changed in 2018, making the drug virtually “pain-free”, but there are times I still feel the needle. Even though I have my medication process down to a science, I still wish I didn’t have to do it and I usually wait until Monday nights to do it. The timing is moreso out of habit, because when I was a morning news anchor there was no way I was going to deal with an injection at 2 a.m. I started a tradition of doing my injection while watching the Bachelor/Bachelorette, and that’s carried over now that I have three young children, often waiting until after their bedtimes. Each time after I’m done with my shot, I text my mom to let her know how it went. She’s a nurse and has been my greatest support with my IBD since the day I was diagnosed.
Sometimes my 5-year-old and 3-year-old watch me do my injection and each time they are intrigued. I’m sure my 11-month-old will be the same once he starts to gain an understanding of what I’m doing. It makes me sad that they often witness me doing my injection, but they are also my greatest motivation to be strong and smile through it. Watching me doing injections has made my kids incredibly brave at the pediatrician when it’s time for them to get their immunizations. Because I have little ones, I have to be mindful of disposing of my medication properly and keeping the Sharps disposal container out of harm’s way. We keep Sharps Containers up high in a cubby hole in our laundry room and I dispose of the injector pen immediately.
As an IBD mom, my greatest fear is passing along my Crohn’s to my children. While the risk is low, it’s there. I hope and pray my children won’t ever need to receive a biologic medication whether it’s through self-injection or infusion. For me, there’s no end in sight, I’m expected to be on my medication (if it remains therapeutic) for the rest of my life. Thinking of my babies having to deal with needles and being forced to inflict pain on them would be difficult for me and only add to the guilt.
The future holds so much promise when it comes to drug delivery without a needle. My hope is that in the years to come, other people won’t have to succumb to the same anxiety, pain, and worry I’ve had to deal with for more than a decade.
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