I just stubbed my toe: Needles, pain, donating blood and being a grown up

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 bled.

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.

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