My grandfather was the family doctor and he gave shots for
everything! This happened on a regular basis from when I was 3 until
13. 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… he's on
the couch" He'd yell back "Just hold him there. I'm almost 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 that strong 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'd suddenly feel the cold, wet alcohol
being swabbed 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. This was my last and final moment for I knew that
after the alcohol, came the needle.

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 thick needle into me; the sting of the needle, followed
by the burning pain as he pushed it deep into my butt. I knew the
needle would hurt like a bitch and then my muscle would be on fire
from the medicine.

My grandfather was now out of view and I was shrieking even more. 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 have to
have it."

Together, my mother, aunt, grandmother, and cousin all started
counting to three - verrrry slowly.

Now I was in total panic because I knew at three, came the needle.
So verrrry slowly, they all joined together and started……

one……… .Two………. THREE!!!!

OWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!! OW!!! OW!!! OW!!!!

I felt the entire 2 inch needle go deep into my butt and I will
NEVER forget it. It burned like crazy and kept getting worse every
second.

As he slowly injected the medicine, I screamed and cried like a
madman, 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 good Timmy. Just a little bit more," I would hear
someone say.

OWWWW!!!!! STOP!!!!! IT HURTS!!!!!!!! STOP IT!!!!!!!

Suddenly, he would yank the needle out and I'd scream real hard.
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 finally
get the guts to get off the couch and pull up my pants and 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 where I got the shot 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 my friend
again, he said he heard I got a needle 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.

For the next few days, every time I walked I cringed in pain. It was
like I just got the shot and it was days later!!!

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.
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. I never knew when I would come home and
find a needle waiting. 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 you had 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? Please email me at
rstein2@..., if you'd like.