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kjpepperI just remembered a conversation I had with Dad that struck me as particularly amusing last week... we were swapping "war stories" (which is what I call any conversation with him where mutual bitching about medical stuff happens) and I was telling the story of how the techs at CDH gave me the choice of learning to give myself lovenox injections or stay in the hospital for a couple more days. Dad expressed something along the lines of being glad he never needed insulin injections for his diabetes, as he is actually quite needlephobic and even though he's been doing it for 20 years, isn't okay with sticking his fingers even. I think at that point I was all like "Eh, needles don't bother me really... considering when I was 7 or 8 I used to play with your lancets."
Which is true, BTW. I was a bored little kid, and fascinated with the fact that Dad had this pen type device that you'd press into your fingers, hit a button and then wow, just this tiny little well of blood. It didn't really hurt even. I was always careful to clean up after myself, so Dad - very apparently, by the look I got - was never the wiser until now. "What? it was twenty years ago, you can't spank me for it now."
No, but he could laugh uproariously for about five minutes instead.
I tell ya, parents are way more fun to be around when you're an adult.
Which is true, BTW. I was a bored little kid, and fascinated with the fact that Dad had this pen type device that you'd press into your fingers, hit a button and then wow, just this tiny little well of blood. It didn't really hurt even. I was always careful to clean up after myself, so Dad - very apparently, by the look I got - was never the wiser until now. "What? it was twenty years ago, you can't spank me for it now."
No, but he could laugh uproariously for about five minutes instead.
I tell ya, parents are way more fun to be around when you're an adult.
