Self Medicating


A couple of days ago Mrs Sensible went to the doctors. I am not sure why she went, I prefer not to discuss dentists or doctors, as there is always some pain involved, and the pain is normally my pain. However Mrs Sensible returned with a hypodermic syringe that was sporting a rather long and dangerous looking needle.

Big pointy needle

Big pointy needle

What is that for, and where did you get it I asked, while silently praying it wasn’t for me. My wife takes great care of my health by monitoring my crisps and alcohol consumption.

From the doctor Mrs Sensible calmly told me. It is my anti flu jab, do you think you can give me the injection? Me!  Give my wife an injection and be responsible for the pain it will involve. I refuse to even hurt spiders, ants or even daddy longlegs. The only beast I will kill or hurt is the blood sucking mosquito.

No sorry, can’t do it. No way I blustered. Why didn’t the doctor give it to you? He is the doctor after all.

Mrs Sensible explained that the doctor gave her the prescription and by the time she had cashed in the prescription for the lethal pointy looking syringe the doctor had gone home. And besides in Italy it is not uncommon for members of the family or maybe a friend to be a dab hand with the syringe. Mrs Sensible’s mum would do it if she was here.

I am your typical Englishman I frown on pain and syringes. Apart from our scary dentist, the last time I received a needle, was some thirty-one years ago when I had my last and hopefully only tetanus jab. We English take aspirin and a glass of lucozade when we have the flu I tried to explain.

All an Englishman needs when he is ill.

All an Englishman needs when he is ill.

It is now three days later, the needle is nowhere to be seen and Mrs Sensible has not gone down with flu, so maybe she asked our neighbour Luigina to give it. After all Luigina is Italian, she is a dab hand with a pick axe in the garden and has written many books on Italy. I would think a simple injection would be a piece of cake for her.

On a footnote I have looked at our medicine tin that used to contain nothing scarier than a pair of nail scissors and a pack of plasters. Under the control of Mrs Sensible, it has grown to a medicine draw and looking at it we could probably survive a nuclear war.

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13 thoughts on “Self Medicating

  1. I think my medicine cabinet looks like Mrs Sensible’s …. better be prepared.
    Also when we travel I have a bag full of pills and potions….
    But the syringe? nope, not for me, although my Mum came to the UK to visit, she is supposed to have an injection once a week every Thursday, and was hoping my elderly neighbour would do it for her…. “because everybody in Italy can do injection…!” yep fat chance of that here in London!!! I don’t have a Luigina as neighbour…. 😦

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  2. I had to really laugh finding out that things have not changed that much since the semi-antediluvian 1950s-60s. My dad knew how to give injections; there was a good collection of various sizes syringes in the house, all in their proper container for sterilizing by boiling in water for at least 10 minutes. But he did not dream of doing any intravenous injections: that skill was for the doctor only. The meds then had to be mixed properly, the syringe filled properly, etc. etc. : I still would be able to do it today. We all knew that we might have to learn to give injections too, but nobody was in a hurry to start training on an apple…
    I have no fear of injections; the “pain” is not even pain, just a tiny tick on the skin; it is mostly advance imagination that adds the fear. I do believe that medicine by injection is very effective and faster that having to take everything by mouth as they make you do here in the USA.

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    • Fortunately our village consists of 8 houses and there is no shop, so there is nowhere for anyone to stand and gossip. Not that a little problem like that will stop the Italians.

      The thing is Mrs Sensible would not do anything that was not aboveboard, she is too Sensible for that. So self medicating with injections must be normal over here. If any think can be classified as normal in Italy.

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    • I don’t think it tastes the same any more . I loved the noise as my mum peeled the orange cellophane wrapper from the bottle, just waiting for the fizzy stuff. My mum never bought fizzy drinks just dilute stuff so It was worth being ill for

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