Two weeks ago, the life-saving medication that I receive three times a year was injected through a spinal tap into my cerebrospinal fluid. Call it women’s intuition, but my mom and I both had the feeling that something would be different this time. It could’ve been because the last injection I had in December was particularly brutal due to the build-up of scar tissue that had formed in the area of my spinal canal that they typically drill into. The doctor who does the drilling could feel the scar tissue and see the amount of pain I was in.

Long story short, the plan they had come up with six years ago to get the medication into me was no longer as simple as it once was — although, it would be incorrect to say that it was ever simple to begin with.

What had tipped me off, personally, was the fact that when I was getting ready to go into the procedure room, the nurse kept mentioning that the doctor who specializes in actually delivering the medication was on his way. Now, this doctor typically comes in at the end of the procedure, so I had an inkling that him being involved from the beginning meant that they were planning a different approach.

As someone who has spent a good portion of her existence thus far subduing her intuition, these thoughts weren’t consciously racing into my mind until one of the doctors sat down next to me instead of standing to give me his normal spiel, while I sign consent. A rock formed in my stomach as I realized what was happening because the last time he did that, he told me that the “natural opening” they had initially found in my spine had closed.

I wasn’t scared per sé, but I became worried very quickly. Because I didn’t know what he was going to say.

He then began to outline their new plan to go into my spinal canal from the side, instead of directly from the back. It would be marginally less invasive in theory. And if they couldn’t find the new natural opening, they would just go in via the old way.

I was up for it, frankly, because I had no other option if I wanted to receive the medication.

So, as I was lying on the table in Room 1 of Interventional Radiology and machines were circling my body, taking scans to prevent the needle from harming any of my internal organs, I was doing my best to be conscious of every breath that I was taking. But, above all, the one emotion that was present in my mind was gratitude.

I was grateful because my medical team actually cares about my well-being. They could’ve kept doing the same approach, but they were considerate of me to find a path to ensure a way to get that medication into me that was easier on my body.

I can’t say the same thing about our government. Because on Nov. 5, the majority of the American public elected individuals into office who care only about their own self- interests. Over the last 100 days, we have seen the trickle-down effects of this — with women’s rights, as well as the rights of minority groups, regressing dramatically and with billions of dollars in cuts to scientific research.

Now one of my biggest fears is that the approval of medications that could greatly improve my quality of life will be delayed.

For instance, there is one medication that was submitted to the FDA at the beginning of the year that would help return strength to my deteriorated muscles. FDA approval was anticipated within the first quarter of 2025, but because of the current political environment, that timeline is indefinite now.

This medication would be delivered in conjunction with my current treatment via IV into my bloodstream. It would be considerably less invasive than a spinal tap, and hopefully more helpful in returning all the function that I lost years ago. Because as helpful as my current treatment is, it has waned in its effectiveness over the past six years.

The bottom line is, I know my body will need another boost in the near future. One of my greatest desires is to get back the level of function that I had 10 years ago. I’m aware that it will probably require a lot of work, on my part, in addition to the medication.

But above all, I don’t want to be afraid of our president not caring enough about these medications and the lives that would benefit from them.

I want him to stop cutting federal institutions off at the knees. I want him to stay in his own lane for once.

Because my well-being and the well being of millions of others depends on it.

Columnist Joanna Buoniconti is a freelance writer and editor. She is currently pursuing her master’s at Emerson College. She can be reached at columnist@gazettenet.com.