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When I was a little girl, we used to play a game called “Mother, May I?” where one child played “Mother”. The other participants lined up a distance away and took turns asking “Mother” for permission to take a number of giant, baby, or other steps toward the goal line. (I guess it never occurred to us that “Mother” might cheat and give her BFF “giant” steps while the rest of us only got to take “baby” steps.)

When I grew up, one of the hardest things I had to learn was to give myself permission. In a time when we’re supposed to power through issues and suck it up, I have learned to give myself permission for a number of things. I give myself permission to be angry when I’m done an injustice, the permission to feel tired and not do everything when the fatigue hits me, and other things that aren’t necessarily a part of today’s do-all, be-all society.

Yesterday afternoon I gave myself permission to be pitiful. I had a number of doctor-related things to do and I gave myself permission (with my boss’s approval) to take the time off to take care of them properly rather than try to sandwich them into the rest of my schedule. I knew all of these things would cause a certain amount of stress and that by the end of the day, I’d be feeling sorry for myself. Thus the permission to be pitiful.

The main stress was the number of times I was going to get stuck with needles. I had to get my labs drawn for my rheumatologist (they had to stick me three times and I have big bruises today) and I had to have the deep shoulder steroid injection. I also was due for my Orencia shot.

After getting the labs drawn (after the third try), I went to the shoulder doc. They were to do the “deep” injection in the glenoid-humerous joint which requires a 3 inch needle (I’m not kidding). They actually did a second (not quite so deep) injection in the A/C joint. They said next time, they would just send me to the radiologist and do it under fluoroscope (and order a Xanax for me ahead of time).

So after all of that (and picking up my Orencia prescription and dropping my list of meds off to my knee doc to get ready for surgery), I stopped by the pharmacy to pick up my monthly round of 12 prescriptions (including those for my husband). It turned out that my rheumy’s office denied refills on two of them — because I hadn’t gotten my labs done! I was not happy and reminded them that I was supposed to (and did) get my labs done that day. Theoretically that’s been handled.

But between getting stuck three times in the lab, twice in the shoulder doc’s office, and once at home for the Orencia injection, I was, indeed, pitiful. So I put ice on my shoulder, took a pain pill, and took a nap.

Sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do.

I hope that whatever giant or baby steps you take in your life today bring you closer to your goals. Thanks for checking in.