Remember how I mentioned recently that I am participating in a research study for a new drug to treat CF? Participation meant that I did an aerosolized breathing treatment of the drug two times a day for 28 days. I also have clinic visits that last 3-ish hours once every two weeks, and I keep a weekly “diary” <– Ha. Pretty simple, right?
I like to think I support research. I’m even getting paid to participate in this study, what’s not to like? However. This stuff was no walk in the park – it tasted pretty bad. Like, gagging bad. At the beginning of the study, I was thinking things like, “Oh you don’t have to pay me, I’m here to help,” *blah blah blah* .. And then they started in on the blood draws and I had to inhale stench twice a day. My perspective switched to “I’m looking forward to my first pay check because I need a serious treat for putting up with this.” I even had a perfect reward in mind: expensive, on my “wish list”, and something I would never buy myself otherwise.
This week’s appointment set a lifetime record for me. It took an unprecedented eight
harpoons pokes to get two blood samples. I have notoriously bad veins, but this was just ridiculous. We blew through both elbows, hands, and eventually went to an ankle. With an infant needle. It was one of those days where I was mentally reduced to my 6-year-old self and my age-old hatred of needles. Let’s just say that by the time I left the office, it was Treat Day. And oh, Friends, was it ever.