Blog Three

As a child, I never really had frequent visits to the hospital. There weren’t many appointments either. Dad or Grandma, if you’re reading this correct me if I’m wrong. At some point, I was absolutely terrified towards doctors and not just them but the cold syringes they held with vaccines in them. Like every kid, I was completely gullible as well as easily influenced. In a way it’s embarrassing for me to share some of the events. My father would always tell me things such as:
“If we go to the hospital, the doctor is going to give you a needle this big in your ear…”
I would then beg him not to take me. I would even begin to cry just at the thought of the syringe. He would then ask me again for reassurance if I still wanted to go and of course I’d tell him no. This little false story my father would give me started to become absurd to the point where I was hit by a car and my leg was smashed. To make it comical, it was my own uncle who ran me over. I believe he was intoxicated too. Despite this, my father still didn't take me to the hospital. I just took some weeks off and that was it. Since then, I always had a feeling the huge needle thing was false until I went to a doctor's appointment to get a shot.
Though I'm still terrified of syringes at least I know they're not as enormous as the way my father depicted them.