| Subject: Do you want to take your syringe home? |
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Fireball
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Date Posted: Sunday, January 06, 2019, 09:20: pm
This is another true story I want to preserve for posterity:
I was approximately 4 years old when I got a toy doctors suitcase with a real stethoscope. I was very happy about it and whenever I played the doctor I examined my patients who always got an injection in the end. I really liked to play those doctor games as a child. Unfortunately I had no real syringe at that time so I used a pencil to substitute it.
When I was very young I frequently needed to visit the doctor. I was often ill and whenever someone had a disease I definitely was infected too. Someday I felt a little sick and my father brought me to our female pediatrician. While the doctor examined me she mumbled something to my father. Although I was curious what she said I definitely couldn’t get the point. Suddenly my father put on my sweater on me, picked me up and carried me out. Obviously my treatment was already over although I hadn’t gotten any kind of medicine or prescription yet. That was kind of unusual but the faster we left this place the better it was. In the hallway my father let me to the ground. I was sure that I made it without getting a shot. I took a deep breath, smiled and started walking forwards while I was holding my father’s hand. Still 15 meters were left and we would reach the exit. Suddenly my father made a sharp right turn. I was confused. Why does he turn right? Actually I wanted to go straight ahead and leave the doctor’s office as soon as possible. But obviously my father didn’t want to do so. He gently pulled my arm and pushed my shoulder forward to make me walk into the new direction. I was confused. This was definitely not the way home. But obediently I toddled into the desired direction step by step still focusing the exit. When we finally entered the room I turned my head forward. Suddenly I hold on my breath because I realized where I was. This was the preparation room for injections. I was a little scared. Sometimes I saw a nurse preparing injections there. Rarely even kids were placed on the examination table standing in the middle of the room. This must have been a totally misunderstanding, I thought. Maybe my father wrongly turned right because he couldn’t find the exit. I tried to get out but my father gently held back my hand. I told him that we definitely entered a wrong room and that we should leave before we are caught. But he just shook his head and told me that we definitely entered the right room and that we were supposed to wait here for a little moment. I was still confused. Why should we wait here? I had no coherent idea.
Maybe I would receive what I secretly always desired: an injection into my buttocks for the very first time. But my father just told me to expect “one little injection into my thigh” when the doctor arrived. I started to cry when I heard that. Those were horrible news. I definitely didn’t want to get an injection into my leg, not even a small one. Such a treatment was always extremely painful. Voluntarily I would have received those shot into my buttock just to give it a try but after I had heard those bad news I was no longer able to ask someone for my very special wish. I shook my head and started crying gradually. Obviously my treatment wasn’t finished yet. It couldn’t be true that I should receive an injection into my leg, it mustn’t. Most of all I feared the pain of the penetration. After a short moment my father placed me on the examination table and opened my trousers. I couldn’t hold back an intensive crying when he pulled down my tights. To comfort me he told me what I already knew: injections in general would help me best to get well soon. I knew that he was damn right. That's why I got injections very often and in every conceivable situation. They always helped me best but as you can imagine this didn’t comfort me at all when things finally got serious. I always wanted to receive the medicine but not as an injection. I just wanted to go home without a stinging leg.
After a little while I worried about something else: Why was I brought to that special room? That was kind of untypical. Usually the injections were brought to the kids who were waiting in the examination rooms and not the other way around. I was confused: Why was I brought here? There must be a special reason for that. I let my memories go to find a suitable answer:
Usually, when I was playing in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, I could watch everything concerning the preparation room very well because there was no door that may be closed. I liked this quite a lot. From time to time I saw a toddler being brought into that room. Some of them walked in voluntarily, some were carried in already crying and others even toddled past and when they were called they toddled back. Usually most of those kids didn’t know what to expect. When a nurse or the doctor arrived everything went very fast. The kids were undressed quickly by their parents and meanwhile a one or two big injections were prepared for them. Usually the nurses tried to shoo me and other kids away when they saw us in the doorway but that didn’t bother me. After a few seconds I always came back to have a look at the magnificent spectacle and usually I was not the only young observer who returned. Sometimes the diaper of a toddler was removed. Then the shots were administered either into the thighs of the children or into their naked buttocks which I always liked best to observe but unfortunately this happened very seldom. Whoever received a shot in this room screamed very loud and desperately. In the end none of them was able to sit, stand or walk anymore. Everyone just rubbed either buttocks or thighs and had to be carried out by a parent. Usually I still heard them crying even in the staircase. No one calmed down quickly. Some of them even developed a temper tantrum afterwards and consequently got spanked. Maybe this room was especially designed to administer likely painful injections to young children and toddler who might struggle hard when receiving it. At least the examination table was accessible from 3 sides to hold down a struggling child quite easily. Furthermore the room had no door to make reinforcement enter quickly. So what was the reason why I was brought here? Was it to give me one or two extraordinary painful shots? Actually that would make sense and it would coincide with my previous observations. Obviously my time had come to get a very, very stinging shot myself. Probably the doctor expected heavy resistance. So she sent me into that room. Oh my goodness. This couldn’t be true, it mustn’t. Watching other kids while getting their shots was always very interesting. I always smiled and I must admit that I never felt pity with anyone who got an injection so far. But getting it myself would become extremely awful. I didn’t want to get such a shot into my leg. I didn’t want to become one of those screaming kids who needed to be carried out because they couldn’t neither sit nor stand nor walk nor even hobble any more. I didn’t want to continue crying still in the staircase. I didn’t want to get a stinging leg for the rest of the day. But every child who was ever brought there obviously did exactly those things. I couldn’t remember even one single exception. Surely this would become a very bad day for me.
Suddenly 2 nurses entered the room. Maybe I had attracted them with my gentle crying. I started to scream when I saw them. I already knew that they would hurt me a lot. One of them straightway started to prepare my injection. She took a large syringe, mounted a thick needle on it and sucked in a huge amount of medicine. I watched into her eyes and shook my head desperately but she ignored me. I knew that she prepared a “pure-fire-injection” (like I called it) just for me. Horrified I saw that the large barrel of the syringe was already more than half full but she still increased the amount of medicine. Probably this would become the worst injection of my life so far. I would have preferred to stand up and run away but I neither couldn’t nor I didn’t dare to do so. Finally she came to me and disinfected my left thigh. I screamed as loud as I could but I didn’t wriggle. I never did so. I always only screamed loud and never tried to fight. Of cause I wanted to get medicine but preferably not as a shot. Meanwhile 3 or 4 people had arrived to hold me down although I was not wriggling at all. I didn’t even move my little finger. I remained motionless and screamed like I would be killed.
Suddenly I felt a heavy jerk in my left thigh. Something really big had hit me very hard. It hurt extremely badly and I felt the needle going deeper and deeper. I was shouting and screaming. Then the medicine was injected and my worst expectations were exceeded. It felt like pure fire spreading out in my whole little thigh. I felt my senses slowly disappear. It neither felt like dreaming, nor than being awake. It was something between, maybe some kind of vegetative state. I don’t know. For a few seconds I didn’t feel pain anymore. I also didn’t hear noises, not even my own screaming and everyone around me obviously moved in slow motion. I saw the medicine being injected very slowly. Suddenly my spirit came back and I recognized everything as usual. I heard my own screaming and felt the full amount of pain. The plunger was on its lowest position and my whole leg was aching and burned like pure fire. The needle stung still in my thigh and I just thought: “Pull it out! Pull it out!” Finally the doctor did so and afterwards I received a Band-Aid. Then everyone left the room quickly and I was left behind screaming and rubbing my leg. It stung and burned as if someone had injected a lump of molten metal in it. I thought that my skin would burst and whatever I did I couldn’t get rid of the intensive pain. Meanwhile I knew exactly why I was brought there. This room was a place where children got their buttocks and thighs injected with “pure fire” like I called it. Probably it was equipped mainly for that special purpose. Meanwhile I knew why every young child who ever was brought here always screamed so very intensively. I started to feel a little pity with them, but just a little. Still screaming in pain I tried to get up and sit but I couldn’t. The pain was too heavy. My leg was aching infernally. Suddenly the nurse who administered the shot came back but I was not amused to see her again. I was still angry at her for hurting me so much. I just hoped that she doesn’t bring another shot for my right thigh but she came to ask a question: „I cleaned the syringe for you and removed its needle. Do you want to take it home?“ In my anger I didn’t listen carefully enough to what she said and of cause I was still screaming heavily. So I misunderstood her. I thought she was asking something like: “I prepared another syringe for you with a needle. Do you want to get it at home?” What an awful offer. I stopped crying just for a moment to answer her question. I screamed as loud as I could into her direction: ”NOOOOO!!!” Afterwards I continued crying. She looked at me quite annoyed and my father said something like: “Come on, take it! You may play with it afterwards.” I was confused but I neither wanted to get another horrible shot at home nor did I want to take along a thing which had hurt me so much. So my answer was still: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” Finally she shook her head and threw it away.
Afterwards I was dressed what turned out to be quite painfully. Whenever my leg was touched I yelled a little. I couldn’t neither stand nor walk nor do anything else. My father needed to carry me out and I didn’t stop crying until I was sitting in the car. When driving home he asked me why I didn’t want to take along my syringe. Slowly I began to realize which offer I actually had denied. I still missed a real syringe in my toy doctor’s suitcase and that day I was offered to get one for free. OMG, how could I refuse that? What an awful day. A real syringe that I once received as a “pure-fire-injection” would have been so nice to play with. Hopefully I would be asked again when I received my next injection. According to my experience this probably wouldn’t take long. Never again I would refuse to take along such a great present. Unfortunately nobody ever asked me that question anymore. Probably the nurse always remembered my face when I had once screamed: ”NOOOOO!!!” I wished so much that I had decided different but it was too late. Once again I had denied a very special offer witch I better should have accepted. When thinking about that I often remembered my first hospital stay where I also made a bad decision that I subsequently couldn’t cancel anymore. This story is also posted here in this forum. Within the next weeks I was quite annoyed with myself. I was such a fool.
At that time I only got one painful shot. But next time I was brought into the same room and each of my legs received its own injection. In general there was absolutely nothing wrong with it and my disease usually became considerable better within a few hours. Probably it would have been better for me to receive those shots once again during the follow-up examination in 3 or 4 days. But unfortunately the doctor very rarely did so. I learned to love and to hate those injections at the same time but I think that I loved them so much more than I hated them. I am very grateful that I received them frequently. Thanks to the doctor and the nurses who administered them to me. They did their very best and probably saved my live several times. May God bless you!
2 years later my little brother got an injection. Fortunately he was asked whether he would like to take along his syringe. From that moment on we finally had a real syringe to play with. What a great day (at least for me). He, however, complained about his stinging leg for many hours. Unfortunately I couldn’t see how he was injected. Surely this would have been very interesting for me. But my father didn’t take me along to the doctor’s office that time. He just told me that my brother had screamed loud and long and that he had wriggled a lot that time. I smiled a little when I heard that … guess what had happen to him …
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