RIDE STRONG

 Hey NIKE, How about  Sponsoring Tour de Endless Road

I’ve never Tour de France, but I have ridden quite a bit in Canada.

Dear NIKE Marketing Team,

I hear you might have some sponsorship cash burning a hole in your sole.

My Name is Paul, I self- inject drugs on a daily basis, and  I take  infusions of Solu-Medro, a high dose steroid, during exacerbations or MS flare-ups. It makes me bitchy, I can’t sleep a wink, and I break-out with acne like a 13 year old kid. The first time I was put on a five day course, a nurse was sent to the house to show me how to do my own nightly infusions.  A big bag of medical supplies, an IV pole, bandages, tape, gloves, Saline solution, lots of needles and tubes, I felt like I was in an episode of HOUSE, expecting 13 to be going through my underwear draw looking for medical clues as to my un-diagnosed illness. This casually dressed visiting nurse said it wouldn’t hurt but a pinch, and  jabbed me hard in the arm, so hard she blew through both sides of my vein. She was astonished, and said that it had never ever happened to her before in all her years as a nurse. She continued to jam what felt like a rusty nail  into me 3 more times until thank god, she ran out of  catheters. Each time she claimed it never happened to her before.  I’m pretty sure she lied to me. Twice she didn’t even hit a vein.

“Must be something wrong with your veins,” she said.

Both arms were quite sore after she left, and despite the time and worry wasted about it, I didn’t get to start the five day infusions of  medication.  She returned the next evening as threatened, stabbed me twice and failed again both times,  and that’s when I politely but firmly stood up asked her to leave my home.

“Are you sure? Maybe we could try your neck”

SLAM!

I’m pretty sure the door did hit her ass on the way out. A quick search of the house did not reveal John Quinones, Betty White or Alan Thick.

I phoned for a new nurse, and again, went another night without the steroids.

On the third day of treatment, my true love gave to me, a real nurse in a white lab coat. She looked at my arms and asked if I was a heroine user. A different holiday, and it would have been funny, I’m sure of it.  She got the catheter installed in my third arm the first try, and sat while I watched the bag of fluids enter my body.

“That’s all there is to it. Disconnect the tube, tape it up.  Tomorrow night, just flush the catheter, hook up a new tube and inject the steroids into the saline bag, set the drip, and hang out for an hour, then repeat for the next three nights, OK?”

Unfortunately the catheter slipped out of my arm during the day at work, probably while shoveling the snow off the roof, and I had to have a fourth nurse visitation to install yet another catheter. Despite all of this, and the side effects of the steroids, I did recover rather quickly from my MS attack, and regained normal use of my leg again. Where was I heading with all of this? Oh yeah,

So, NIKE,

This is the truth.  I have, and will continue to inject drugs.

I look forward to your call.