ARCHIVE FILES FROM THE INJECTION DAYS...

I thought it might be of some connecting benefit to include a poem I wrote in 2003 when I literally suffered through the daily shots of Copaxone. Although not currently on any of the ABC drugs (Avonex, Betaseron, Copaxone) commonly prescribed to help control the progression of Multiple Sclerosis, I vividly recall my daily struggle of "medication compliance".
Perhaps more importantly if you have MS, you may connect to the deeper meaning of this poem that speaks to the betrayal we sometimes feel from our bodies and the emotional cost we pay in trying to maintain that delicate balance of body and soul.

COPAXONE

It is not the needle itself

That stirs such insult

Inside my soul.

Hollow and cold,

Made of harmless stainless steel

Each puncture of my skin

Is such a mindless act.

A daily repetition,

As simple as brushing my teeth

Or combing my hair.

The needle's depth

Does not stop

At the surface

Of my skin, however.

The puncture goes beyond

The outer flesh of my being

And penetrates my

Most sacred and private

Hiding places within,

Leaving tiny, little holes

In the fortress walls

Of my soul.

I feel vulnerable and afraid

And saddened

By the mortality

Of my physical self

That I should need

This needle's daily delivery

Of medication

Designed to prolong

My body's existence.

I am angered my body

Has betrayed the rest

Of my being.

It is only just my flesh

Should have to endure

This ritual.

But my soul cries

And bleeds

A little more grief

Each day the needle

Passes through it.