Before I launch into this post, telling you how I can hardly handle pain stronger than a toe stubbing (and sometimes that is too much), let me first say that I birthed my only child without the use of any drugs. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. Everyone who knew me well was shocked I was able to do that. But do it I did. Not because I wanted to experience "natural" childbirth. No, intense contractions and the actual pushing don't seem all that natural to me. They definitely weren't beautiful, amazing, or however some crazy moms describe them. The real reason I birthed my kid without drugs? I did not want a needle in my spine.
I hate needles.
I used to donate blood regularly, with my sought-after O positive blood and all. But eventually I got to the point where the needle bothered me too much, both when it went in and how it felt the entire time (it burned). Couple that with my being a slow bleeder and throw in my passing out about 35 percent of the time, and I had some pretty good reasons to stop saving lives.
Did I mention how much I hate needles? I was reminded of that this evening. As I was opening our front door to get the mail, I felt something jab my foot. I looked down and saw a rusty screw in the doorway. I immediately took my sock off and noticed an indention in my foot, but fortunately no blood. Since my last tetanus shot was in 1989, I was a little panicked. Brian told me I was fine since I was not bleeding. I texted a few nurse friends who all said the same thing. But I still feel a little uneasy because my foot still hurts a bit. And there is that indentation...
In case you were wondering, I had plans to get a tetanus shot in 2002 (which, yeah, I know is past the 10-year mark). Unfortunately, I had just had blood drawn, and I ended up passing out. After that, I decided the shot could wait. And wait it still has.
Why? Because my name is Facie and I am a wimp. A wimp who may have birthed a child sans drugs, but a wimp who also cried when I had a sonogram because the tech was pushing on my stomach too hard (yes, I am serious). But mostly I am just a 40-year-old wimp who is afraid of needles. I won't even get into what happened when J had to get shots when she was four or five, but suffice it to say that Brian will be there when she gets her next set.
Regardless, here's hoping my skin never again becomes acquainted with anything rusty.