They didn't even give me a lollipop
This afternoon, I picked Mike up at work and we went to a flu shot clinic at our doctor's office. I am a big (huge, gigantic) baby when it comes to needles, but I've had the good ol' influenza a couple of times and in terms of misery, it's no contest. (Last year was the first year I didn't have an office flu shot clinic to go to, and I never did get around to getting a shot. I did get around to contracting the flu, and after the fever/chills/lung pain/general misery was gone, I ended up with a cough that lasted for months.)
I always tense up before getting the injection, and they tell me to relax, which just makes things worse, because it reminds me that there is something to relax ABOUT, and that if I don't relax, it will hurt MORE, which creates a vicious cycle of tension, pain, and whining. When I sat down in the chair, there was a little boy two seats over, reminding his mom not to look, that it would be over quickly, and she would only feel a slight pinch. I did look (I always look - I need to know when it is going to be over), it was NOT over quickly, and it DID hurt.
When I stood up, there was an elderly man next in line. He asked me nervously if it was very painful. I smiled sweetly and told him it didn't hurt at all.
Today was a banner day for me, character-wise. I come up short in the bravery department when compared with a five-year-old, and I lie to the elderly. On the plus side, my arm hurts enough that it was extremely difficult to get out of my regular clothes and into my pajamas, so chances are pretty good I will have to wear these sweatpants for the rest of my life.
I always tense up before getting the injection, and they tell me to relax, which just makes things worse, because it reminds me that there is something to relax ABOUT, and that if I don't relax, it will hurt MORE, which creates a vicious cycle of tension, pain, and whining. When I sat down in the chair, there was a little boy two seats over, reminding his mom not to look, that it would be over quickly, and she would only feel a slight pinch. I did look (I always look - I need to know when it is going to be over), it was NOT over quickly, and it DID hurt.
When I stood up, there was an elderly man next in line. He asked me nervously if it was very painful. I smiled sweetly and told him it didn't hurt at all.
Today was a banner day for me, character-wise. I come up short in the bravery department when compared with a five-year-old, and I lie to the elderly. On the plus side, my arm hurts enough that it was extremely difficult to get out of my regular clothes and into my pajamas, so chances are pretty good I will have to wear these sweatpants for the rest of my life.