Being in the communications business (and being married to an architect) I am acutely aware of design. Every object you use, see, touch has been designed by someone with an effort toward both form and function.
(I am currently reading the Steve Jobs book and, if he cared for nothing else, he was passionate with every fiber of his being about design.)
Many times design performs a function. Take for example the design of the interior of a commercial aircraft and compare/contrast it to the design of the interior of a submarine.
The aircraft is designed to create calm, confidence, and comfort in passengers. All the wires and mechanisms are carefully hidden by bulkheads and other structures to be out of sight, so passengers only see smooth contours and solid surfaces.
Submarines, on the other hand, have most of their pipes, wires, and working mechanisms exposed. Not only does this make it easier to identify and resolve any issues, seeing all these devices keeps the submariners alert and reminded that they’re reliant on the boat’s life support system to see them from port safely home.
Which brings me to my current angst.
The last few years I’ve been rocking along using Humira, Simponi, or Enbrel, all of which come packaged in a great pre-loaded, self-injecting pen. A swipe of the alcohol, a click of the pen, and the injection is done until next time.
I will say that my current drug, Orencia, has made the tremendous leap from infusion to home-injection, which is great. However, it comes in a traditional syringe rather than the pen form.
There is something inherently scary about a syringe. Show one to an infant who has never had an injection and I guarantee the baby will get scared and start crying. And trust me, there is something very wrong about intentionally sticking something sharp into your skin (much like jumping out of a perfectly good airplane — it goes against all the primal self-preservation instincts).
And while I should be (am) happy that medical science makes the drug possible, and I have insurance that pays for it, and all the blessings surrounding the drug, I just can’t be happy with the delivery system.
It’s too early to know if Orencia will work for me. I am hopeful that it will and I will learn to, if not look forward to the injections, at least appreciate them for the good they do.
I hope that whatever is designed into your day brings a smile to your face and warmth to your heart. Thanks for checking in.