I also got a 2nd sharps container. I need to call the waste management people to find out what to do with the needles. When the container is totally full, do I dump it out or do I toss the entire container? I'll call, they will tell me.
But I had an interesting conversation with myself yesterday. I've always been self conscious about my thighs. Even when I was very young. My perception of my thighs had nothing to do with media, nothing to do with Barbie, nothing to do with super models. In elementary school, we would all line up, we would walk down the block, the teacher would give us each a dime and we would get on the city bus. We'd take that bus to the Y for swim lessons. It was generally very fun. Like when we learned synchronized swimming. But sometimes it wasn't as fun. Like, the water was cold, our math and science teacher also happened to be our swim teacher, and we often saw him in his speedo which was weird. And then there was the mean old lady swim teacher who would point at us with her crooked finger and get angry when we couldn't figure out which of us she was pointing at. She would also pull our hair while "helping" us dry it under the dryers in the locker room.
Then there was that one time that I left my swim bag on the bus. We all arrived at the Y together, everyone else had their swim stuff but me. I'm pretty sure I panicked. I am pretty sure I cried.
But then the mean old lady swim teacher came "to the rescue" and I was able to borrow a swim suit from lost and found.
Gross.
It was too big, it was navy blue, it was an old lady suit and if I recall, it was made of a similar material as my dance leotards at the time which were Scratchy and gross. But what I recall most about the suit was that they leg holes were kind of square like, and more like shorts. And as I sat on the edge of the pool, self conscious in this terrible lost and found travesty, I noticed how my thighs squished and seemed to grow exponentially as they rested on the pool deck. Now, a logical person knows this is what happens to muscles at rest. Just as the massage therapist told me once, healthy muscles jiggle. Healthy muscles squish, flatten and spread when relaxed. But from that instant on I have been self conscious about my thighs. Which is pretty sad since I was like only 7.
I was even self conscious about them when I was 15, stood 5'10" and was 30 pounds lighter than I am now. How is that even possible?? What was wrong with me.
But regardless, I now use an injectable medication. One that I need to inject into fat every night. I'm supposed to rotate the injection site. The nurse said she has seen kids who wind up with big patches of scar tissue because they inject in the same place over and over. So they say, you can inject in your belly fat roll- to the left, to the right, a little up, a little down, in the center. But you can also inject into your thigh fat, arm fat, etc. so last night as I was prepping, I happened to be wearing my angry birds boxer shorts so I was like hey! I'll inject into my squishy, fat thighs. And you know what happened? When faced with the possibility of it hurting, all of a sudden, I really didn't have much fat on my thighs. What? I couldn't find an ample enough patch of fat that I wanted to risk poking with that needle. After 30+ years of thinking I had fat thighs, turns out I don't!
So I poked my belly fat roll because I can still find that!
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