My Prince

This has been a tough week. It's the first week of my shots, and it sucks. They burn, they're inconvenient and they make me sore. Add to that a stomach bug that could or could not have been a side effect of the meds and some pretty painful injection site reactions two of the five times I've injected, and you have a really crappy week.

And the only reason I have gotten through it is Mark. He really is my prince. Let me tell you why.

On my second day, I injected in my right thigh. (I have since learned that thighs are the worst injection sites.) It burned. It hurt. It immediately began to swell up. Was it because the depth setting was wrong? Had I not done it right? I bent over in pain and defeat and started to cry.

Mark, ever at my side through this journey, decided to point out to me that the injection site had swollen into the shape of a heart. I thought he was just being sweet and trying to make me feel better. But he was right. I looked at it and it was in the perfect shape of a heart. How sweet.

But then he opened his mouth again.

"If one of these things swells up into the shape of Jesus, I'm totally taking a picture and making money off of it."

Thanks, dear. I love you, too.

But you know what? Suddenly I didn't feel the pain anymore. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself. No, I was too busy laughing--because of Mark. He always knows how to do that.

He may not be romantic, and his methods of comforting me may be a bit unorthodox, but, you know what, they always work. Yep, he's definitely a prince--my prince.