“WAS THERE SOMETHING OFF WITH YOUR SHOT DAY AND BLOODWORK THIS TIME AROUND?” MY DOCTOR ASKS, STARING QUIZZICALLY AT THE COMPUTER SCREEN.
My jaw clenches.
“Your numbers are quite high, when did you do your shot?” he asks again.
I start to sink into my chair, my legs feeling like lead. My shoulders curl in, I’m subconsciously attempting to get smaller. I suspected this; at our last appointment he was also concerned. We lowered my dose a little bit, I promised to eat more, gain some weight.