Needles

I hate needles. With a passion. The first time I went to Mongolia I had to get five different vaccinations. The last one made me pass out. Sharp pointy thing overload. I still donate blood, though the grimaces on my face makes the phlebotomist nervous. "Are you sure you’re okay?” and “Do you need some water?" and "Are you going to pass out on me?" is the final question they usually ask as I scrunch my eyes up and probably turn deathly pale. I can't help it. It's the fight or flight response in over-drive. However, I have no problem putting sharp pointy things in other people. Yet, I can definitely empathize with the look of panic that crosses my patient's face before I make the plunge into their skin.
Why all this sharp talk? Well, today I received the most beautiful TB skin test and flu vaccine ever. I was lucky number 300th poke, so this lady was a pro. I didn't feel a single thing. Usually when I get a TB skin test, I end up with a ginormous bruise on my forearm within a matter of minutes. This time... nothing. My deltoid usually aches for days on end after a flu shot. This time? Nothing! I'm as surprised as you are. I didn't even flinch. Maybe I’m conquering my fears after all. Or maybe I just need to be number 300 more often.