Author:
Tim
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Date Posted: Saturday, February 24, 2018, 03:16: am
My grandfather was the family doctor and he gave shots for everything! This happened on a regular basis from when I was 3 until 15. The entire family would gather 'round to watch while I screamed bloody murder. If I ever got sick, I worried to death that my grandfather would be called. I begged my mother not to call him because I knew I might get a shot. This is also true for the routine injections that I got during these ages.
Once, I was at a friend’s house playing and my mother called on the phone. She asked me to come home because she had a surprise for me. When I got home, I heard someone say “Here he is.” I was very excited as I saw my mom and a few relatives in the kitchen all laughing. One of them said "Come here Timmy, we have something for you." I entered the kitchen only to find my grandfather boiling water, sterilizing a needle!!! I immediately panicked because I knew what that meant. My happiness turned to tears and I began to cry hysterically. “No please!!! I don’t want a shot! Please mommy!!!”
Several relatives grabbed me and walked me into the living room toward the couch. Laughingly, they said "Come on Timmy, it’s just a shot." They all laid me down on the couch and held me flat on my stomach. One of them started unbuttoning my pants as the others held my arms and legs. I was crying hysterically as I felt my pants and underwear being pulled down to my knees.
One of them yelled to my grandfather "Are you almost ready? We have him on the couch" He yelled back "Just keep him there, I’m just about done." I was crying like crazy as I laid there helplessly, begging them not to give me the shot. They all kind of laughed and said "It'll be okay Timmy. It'll be over real soon. You have to get this shot." I remember laying there crying hysterically for at least 10 minutes, knowing my grandfather would come in any moment.
Suddenly, my grandfather would walk in holding a tray and set it down on the end table. My mother, aunt, grandmother, and cousin were holding me down with my pants pulled all the way to my knees, as I continued to cry, Tears were flying everywhere. All I could feel where many hands holding every part of my body as I laid there with my butt exposed, terrified of what was about to happen.
From the corner of my eye I saw my grandfather walk into the living room holding a tray. He placed it down on the end table. I'll never forget the pungent smell of the alcohol. That smell alone made me cringe.
I knew I was very close to feeling that dreadful needle. As I continued to freak out, I felt a cold, wet swabbing of alcohol on my butt. I knew it was getting closer and I struggled even harder. But the harder I struggled, the harder they all held me. Everybody was laughing and cracking jokes as I laid there in panic.
From the corner of my eye, I saw my grandfather pick up the needle. All I could think about was how much it was going to hurt when he jabbed that long thick needle into me; the sting of the needle, followed by that cold burning pain as he pushed it deeply into my muscle. I knew the needle itself would hurt and then my muscle would be on fire as the medicine went in.
My grandfather was now out of view and I was shrieking and begging not to get the shot. I knew it was coming any moment. I had been through this before and they always did it the same way. My mother started rubbing my head and said "I'm sorry honey. I know it's gonna hurt but you must have it"
Together, my mother, aunt, grandmother, and cousin all started counting to three - very slowly. Now I was in total panic because I knew at three, I would feel the jab. So very slowly, they all joined together and started…… one……… .Two………. and at three, I felt the entire 2 inch needle go deep into my muscle and I will NEVER forget it. It burned like crazy and kept getting worse with each passing second.
As he slowly injected the medicine, I screamed and cried even harder, begging them to stop. They all just kept smiling and laughing as the medicine burned away. I heard someone say “I bet that hurts.” I felt every bit of the medicine burn as it went into me. My butt was on fire and I was helpless to move. On and on I could feel the ugly stinging of the medicine as it entered me. It was always a large dose back then and it took a long time to inject. My butt just kept burning and burning and I became hoarse from screaming. “You’re doing very well Timmy. Just a little bit more,” I would hear someone say. Suddenly, he would yank the needle out and I’d scream real hard, for even that hurt! The whole thing was horrible and it lasted a long time. I laid there crying for like 15 minutes afterwards as my mother comforted me.
I was hysterical and all they did was laugh and make fun of me! My butt continued to hurt even after the shot was finished. I’d walk away crying and limp to my room. I didn’t talk to anyone after that. I remember laying on my bed with my butt hurting real bad. I once looked at the injection site and it was a big red inflamed mark where the needle went in. Even that scared me to death!
Another bad part was waking up in the morning and still having a sore butt. Not only was it painful but embarrassing. I had to face all these people the next day and listen to them goof about it. What made it even worse was, a few days later, when I met a friend, he said he heard I got a shot when I left his house. It seems that my brother told all of my friends what happened. It was embarrassing to know that they all knew what happened.
I got shots, one way or another, a few times each year. All of them were in my butt because that's what my grandfather insisted. He used a large glass syringe and a needle that had to be boiled in water. That is all they had back in the 60’s. It wasn’t a secret that those needles hurt. I may be wrong but, I think they were longer and thicker back them. And with everyone’s fear of death and disease, they figured the pain was worth it.
All the shots I got back then hurt like hell but no one seemed to care. It didn't really matter how much I screamed or resisted. I was getting it no matter what. It wasn't until I was in my late teens where I finally saw a different doctor. My grandfather had died. This doctor wasn't so shot crazy and I didn’t get any in the butt. I spent much of my childhood in fear of shots. I never knew when I would come home and find a needle waiting. This may be wrong to do to a kid but this is the way it was. Many times I see it as child abuse. Trust me; you NEVER want your relative being your doctor. I never saw him as my grandfather. I saw him as someone to fear if he felt I needed a shot.
If anyone has any similar experiences I would love to hear about it. Most of my childhood, was in terror over possibly getting a shot without warning. It has affected me to this day. I'm curious to know if anyone else has had anything similar happen?
When I hit puberty I had this incredible desire to know if girls went through the same thing. If I heard they did I asked them loads of questions about it. This was true of shots in the arm as well.
Please email me at yodabest57@aol.com, if you'd like.
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