Dreaded Jabs

Today, with three months to go until my plane leaves Gatwick, I finally plucked up the courage to book an appointment with the travel clinic; and I’m already royally messing myself. 

It’s not only the inevitably eye-watering cost that’s got me wary (although why anyone would want to pay to get physically assaulted I do not know), it’s more the fact that I hate everything about injections. The suspense of rolling up your sleeve to reveal your fleshy bingo wing, only to wait 20 seconds for the nurse to get the syringe ready. That feeling of the needle piercing your skin and the sensation of something foreign entering your body. How the nurse then tells you to casually wait outside for 20 minutes; just to make sure you don’t have a reaction (which of course then makes you convince yourself that you can’t breath and in fact are going to die). Not to mention the dull aching pain that remains for days; making me look like a ridiculous circus animal everytime I try and move. 

In the past I’ve cried, fainted and been very rude to a poor nurse; experiences which at the age of 23 I really do not want to repeat. I am already extremely good at embarrassing myself (crying in the middle of GoApe wasn’t one of my finest moments) and if I’m honest I really don’t need any help. But in the same vein I can almost certainly say I will probably try and pet a rabid dog and get bitten, so it really does look like I’ll have to grin and bare it; pink sausage arm and all. 

Any tips and tricks about how to deal with this fear would be greatly appreciated!

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