I don’t like needles. I am petrified by them.
Having blood drawn terrifies me, although by this age, I’m sorta getting used to the procedure.
To make it worse, apparently I have what is called rolling veins. They are hard to find, hard to stick and hard to draw blood from. I always tell the phlebotomists that I kick. They think I’m joking.
Anyway, back to the needles.
Well, for years my daughters encouraged me to get my ears pierced. I wasn’t about to get my ears pierced – because of needles. Besides, my ears were perfectly fine without extra holes in them. I had no need or desire to get my ears pierced.
I wore earrings every day and loved ‘em. I even wore earrings back when everybody called them earbobs. (Now, that’s a word you don’t hear very often anymore.)
As years went on, though, it became much more difficult to find clip-on earrings. The rest of the world must have had pierced ears. The lack of selection of clip-ons, however, didn’t allay my fear of needles.
Then, one day, I had to have some out-patient surgery for which I was to be “doped up” and out of it. That meant I had to have a driver; this assignment fell to daughter Tiffany.
Not only did she pick me up, she decided to have my ears pierced while I was dopey.
Thanks, Tiffany. It's so nice to have daughters who care - even if it means needles and holes in my ears!