I’ll be brief.
I donate blood at the lovely Edmonton location of Canadian Blood Services every 56 days or thereabouts.
I keep my vaccinations up to date.
The Kid has regular (weekly at the moment) blood work done and has had a tragic number of IVs in her life (with never a whimper and always displaying a joyful fascination for the process). For a while I had to inject nasty stuff into her thigh once a week.
Believe me, I know and understand what a needle feels like, both the little vaccination ones and the big broken-golf-club-shafts they use for blood donations.
What I don’t understand is why some grown up people whimper and blanch at the very thought of a little pin prick from a nurse, and this, in part, is why I don’t understand:
I just stubbed my toe!
Barefoot, I was coming up the stairs with the laundry and, to use skiing parlance (and to bring back dark childhood memories of a bad
afternoon on the slopes near the village of Sundridge, Ontario) I caught a tip, in this case the tip of the second toe on my right foot, on the sharp, terra cotta edge of a Mexican paver.
I nearly fainted.
Seriously, the needle pricks required for a vaccination, routine blood work, or even blood donation are as nothing — are positively orgasmically pleasurable — compared to the agony brought on by a good toe stubbing.
All you pale-faced adults who turn to jelly when a needle bearing nurse approaches . . .
Suck it up, you wimps!
If you’ve stubbed your toe once in your life, you’ve already survived the pain of a thousand needles and more.
Suck it up! And just to prove that you’re not a little baby, go make a blood donation!
I’m eligible again June 2.
I expect to see a whole lot of people sucking it up — not whimpering — and being grown-ups saving peoples lives with the simplest of sacrifices.