Needles (And The Damage Done)

Little man Riley had to get some shots at the doctors today. Apparently he handled the whole thing with the sort of panache and style that I would not normally assume a six month old would have, but the kid's got his moments, he's got some moxie. Thinking about the needles punching into that resilient little flesh (which I still have this odd impulse to want to eat), and the screaming bout that was sure to come with it made me feel bad for the little guy.

I was reminded of a medical crisis when I was about 8 or 9. One night after school, my leg started to ache pretty badly. I didn't think much about it, except "hey that hurts something good", and went on eating peanut butter out of the jar or watching Diff'rent Strokes, whatever I did for kicks when I was 8 or 9. I woke up the next morning and it hurt BAD. I decided it was time to bring in the expert on all things of medical importance; mom. She thought I was trying to ditch school for the day and sent me on my way.

By the time the school day ended, I could no longer walk. I was helped out to the bus by my friend Tom, and the bus driver actually drove off the route and to my house, helping me off the bus and into the waiting arms of my very apologetic mother.

There was a visit to the ER where they discovered some mutant strain of bacteria was attempting to make paella out of my hip bones. That first night's a little bit fuzzy, but I remember being poked with needles and what felt like bamboo spikes by the dozens. I tried to cinch my eyes tight and send my mind somewhere else, but it's tough when you have all kinds of metal being pushed into your body. I cried, and cried pretty hard.

Apparently, I learned later, my dad held onto my mom in the hall while she cried at the sound of my pain coming through the hospital door.

I didn't get it at the time, I mean mom wasn't being punctured by needles. What the hell was she crying about? Yeah, I get it now.

On top of a variety of things that having a child has brought me is this enhanced sense of empathy, which I am unsure as of yet is a blessing or a curse; somewhere in between I'm guessing. Having a child has not however brought back that nifty comic book version of Star Wars that I was given for reading material for my stay in the hospital, I miss that.


Song Stuck In My Head Right Now: "She's In Parties" by Bauhaus.