Surely there's a lozenge for that?

The doctor lied. Revisionists of my own personal history will attempt to tell you that the doctor lied in an effort to protect me from myself. That somehow his heroic mistruth resulted in the needle both entering and exiting my arm before I even had a clue what had happened.

The doctor, though I scarcely believe he deserves his title after his fib, asked me to look away and count to 10, explaining that he would jab me then. This, of course, led me to falsely believe that I could expect my world to fall apart through the pain of the needle after ten seconds.

Instead, the dastardly bugger took advantage of my innocence and struck at me after just three seconds. And no, I barely felt a thing, but that one act of medical treason has left me scarred for life.

While some of what I write can be considered hyperbolic ranting or some such, believe me when I tell you I have a deeply held, pathological fear of needles. Not just an ‘oh I hate needles’ but a pathos so ingrained from childhood that I haven’t had a needle in a long, long time, nor done anything that might make me cross paths with one.

Interestingly, the only terrible experience in terms of pain I have had from a needle is when my brother punched me in the same spot where I had a tetanus jab as a child. He was nasty like that.

That was the same shot for which I pretended to be asleep, having to be dragged from the car by my mother while my little arms and legs flopped melodramatically all over the place. As it turns out, doctors are quite happy to vaccinate you even while you are asleep which I think is terrible, even though I was clearly pretending.

I can’t look at needles and even writing this is proving rather uncomfortable. Those who donate blood – bless their cotton socks – have tried and failed in the past to tell me about their experience as just hearing it makes me go faint in the head and go in search of a good lie down and a stiff drink.

My full-blown fear didn’t develop until after I was 12 when I received my last shot which was, I remember quite clearly, entirely pain free and not a big deal at all. I do remember seeing a friend of mine run from the doctor’s surgery, screaming an inhuman scream, like somehow she had been forced to sit through open heart surgery instead of a needle.

Now, this is not to say that I do not believe in vaccination. I do. I think those who do not vaccinate their children are frauds endangering the lives of others. I just don’t like needles myself.

I know the time is fast approaching where I will have to get vaccinated again. And I will heartily – heartily – insist that the doctor either administer some laughing gas through my face or knock me the fuck out using the back of a chair.