I won’t bore you with the details from Shot #2, as it was pretty much the same story as Shot #1…quick and painless.
Shot #3, however, hurt like HELL. Ginger felt terrible about it, but it wasn’t her fault. I think it was a combination of my laying the wrong way and my tensing up (maybe because I wasn’t positioned right), but I felt every second of it, including the gross sensation of thick liquid going into my muscle. I even got lightheaded for a couple of seconds, but it wasn’t unbearable. She laughed and said, “it’ll probably hurt more taking the band-aid off than the shot did.” I chuckled, but thought she was out of her mind; after a quick hug, we were on the way out.
She was RIGHT, though. I don’t know what kind of industrial-strength band-aids they use, but I thought I was going to find all of my skin on it when I took it off the next morning.
On another unpleasant note, I think I’m shedding more hair than normal. It could just be my imagination, but it seems like I’m throwing away more loose hair than I usually do. We’ll see how that plays out. Hair loss is a possible Lupron side-effect, albeit an uncommon one, so perhaps I’m just shedding my winter coat like the pets are.
We went to South Carolina this weekend to visit my grandmothers (we go once a month). I snapped this pic of a derelict house on the way down; they’d cleared out some trees over the last couple of months, which left it exposed, and my mom wanted a picture of it, so I took one for the team and hung out the window at 70 mph to get her a picture. You’re welcome, Mom;).
One of my grandmothers is suffering from dementia. Usually, it only seems to affect her short-term memory (although I’m sure that those who see her on a regular basis notice it in other ways), but this time, she didn’t remember that I’d come to spend a week with them during the summer a few times when I was a kid. That hurt; she usually regales me with the tale of her and Papa walking in on me calling my parents because I was homesick and picks on me about it. This time, however, I regaled her with the tale of the only fish I ever caught (that couldn’t have been more than three inches long) and how I made Papa take it off the hook because I didn’t want to touch it. She asked me if I ever got homesick, and I told her I did and we moved on to other things. Dementia really sucks.
Sundays are always a bit stressful for me; although I love church, it involves a lot of interpersonal activity (and sometimes singing in front of a big crowd), which wears out this introvert. Joey and I have enjoyed the last two weeks of going and doing something active on Sundays, so we continued that by heading out to Morrow Mountain to hike.
We did the Fall Mountain trail, which is listed at four miles, but after the re-routes they had to do for some fallen trees, ended up being about 4.2. It’s listed as a moderate hike, and I’d agree with that assessment. However, it required some log-hopping and balancing to cross a couple of streams, which was pretty harrowing for someone struggling with Lupron clumsiness.
Joey and Indy on the trail:
We stopped at a rock outcropping about halfway through and something intrigued Indy greatly. I couldn’t tell what, but snapped a pic of her.
I didn’t wash off my makeup before heading out to the trail, so I was ultra-fabulous for the hike.
I think we’re going to keep up this trend of doing a long walk/hike on Sundays. It’s a great way to decompress and a fantastic way to rack up some miles right at the beginning of the week. Mitchell will be 12 miles, so we’ve got our work cut out for us. It’s also nice not to be sitting in front of the tv, which traditionally has been the way we’ve spent our Sunday afternoons/evenings.
We’re also toying with the idea of a day-trip to the mountains to hike on Mother’s Day. The last couple of years, I’ve skipped church because it sucks too much not to be able to stand up with the rest of the moms. We’ll see.