Elara was forty-two the first time she threw a nearly full Ozempic pen against the bathroom wall.
It wasn’t the needle. She was fine with needles. It was the not knowing . The pharmacy had rushed her training. The glossy pamphlet showed a smiling woman in yoga pants clicking to “0.” But for Elara, the window was always fogged. Did she get the full dose this week? Did she double-click last Tuesday? The gray plastic told her nothing. Her blood sugar told her everything—spiking, crashing, a silent judge. ozempic dose counter
She watched the sapphire window. No blurry lines. No guessing if the gray plunger had moved. Just crisp, engraved numerals. Elara was forty-two the first time she threw