Nobody really prepares you for the moment you’re standing in the kitchen holding a needle, about to give it to someone you love. My hands were not steady that first night. I read the instructions four times. I made Sam wait while I worked up the nerve, which, in hindsight, probably did not help her nerves.
By the third night I had a little routine going. Ice first, take a breath, count to three. It stops being a big dramatic event and starts being a Tuesday. I didn’t expect to get used to it, but you do. That’s been true of a lot of this, actually.
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