Save the Needles

My hero husband, though quite accustomed to giving me my daily injections, still can't stand needles, blood, or any sort of personal painful injury. He has a history of going into shock rather easily, which he has in common with some members of his family. So, "needles"s to say he's grateful that I get the "bee sting" every morning instead of him. If only we could find a way to put a positive spin on his spiral into unconsciousness.

It all started in first grade- well, before first grade- when he had to get immunizations. Simple, quick pokes, right? Over and done, Luke stood up, and then, and then . . . as he felt a little hot and blackness starting to creep into his vision, the next thing he knew he woke up on a bed.

A few years down the path of grade school- when I first met Luke- he was out in the furnace room with a couple of other students doing some cutting with a razor knife (yeah, we went to private school where we could do cool things like that). The knife slipped and skewered his thigh. One of the kids pulled the knife out and then the two boys started to help Luke into the school when one said, "We're losing him." Then Luke woke up in the boy's restroom on a cot, his pants off and a coat over his legs, and the teacher (my dad) standing over him checking out his injury. He ended up being fine but his leg still bears the scar.

His next vivid fainting episode took place during blood work before a sinus surgery. He wasn't donating blood, just giving a little sample, but it was enough to make the lights grow dim again.

Unfortunately for my hero, he would have to suffer through frequent allergy shots over a three-year span. Luke and family developed a strategy, however, to help him stay conscious. Don't look at the needle and have the skin pinched up really tightly. Oh, and only his Grandma Betty could administer the shots because Luke's mom had just as much trouble as he.

As an adult, Luke faces flu season with our family pharmacist, whose own son suffers from needle fear. With his head down and ample time to rest behind the little curtain when it is all over, Luke manages to make it through without hitting the floor.

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My collection of syringes piles up, ready for disposal. It's too bad we have to throw them out after just one use. Hang on, brilliant idea forming-

Many a night as I toss and turn, snore, and cry out at odd times because my leg has cramped up or I am suddenly acutely aware of the spinning of the earth- the pleasures of sleeping with Bump- I worry that Luke isn't getting enough rest. If only there was something we could do to help him sleep. NyQuil should only be taken in moderation. And, well, you know, when Luke is actually sick. And I really don't want him getting hooked on sleeping pills. Hmmm. Maybe, just maybe, I should start saving my used needles!

Think of it! Luke can't fall asleep, or I have just rudely awakened him and he needs to fall back asleep because it is only 2:00 AM- what if I just grabbed a needle and gave him a quick jab in the arm! You know what would happen- he'd be out like a light! Problem solved. Now that's a way to reuse and snooze!