Needles Make Me Cry

When I was a child I was praised by my mother because I didn't cry when I had my shots. When I was 6 years old I had rheumatic fever. To discover that diagnosis they had to draw my blood. They had to stick me 7 times before they got the blood that they needed. I used to enjoy going to the dentist and I never had a problem with needles. That has changed.

Yesterday I went to get my IV fluids. I get a liter twice a week. If I don't I end up in the emergency room for dehydration. I don't know why. It may be related to Dysautonomia. We are trying to determine if I have Diabetes Insipidous. But in the meantime I need the infusions. Yesterday, I couldn't handle it. When she stuck the needle in my arm, I cried. It hurts. My skin is tough, my veins don't cooperate. The first attempt did not succeed. I know it wasn't the nurse because a couple weeks ago she got it on the first try! That is rare for me. Yesterday it took 2 attempts. With my tears pouring down my cheeks I thought of the needles in my life.

I have to poke my finger 3 times a day to check my blood sugar.
I have to give myself a shot in the butt at least 4 times a day for my insulin. If the pen is running out and doesn't have a whole dose I get an extra shot. I do it in my butt because I read that the injections attract fat and that is the only place on my body that I am willing to invite fat.
So, on a good day I get 7 needles.
2 times a week I get an IV for my fluids.
1 time a week I have to give myself a shot of Methotrexate. My chemotherapy for Sarcoidosis. That helped me see for myself that I have tough skin. The nurses told me to inject it deep in my thigh so it will go into the muscle. So, I sat on my bed. My husband sat beside me for moral support. I got the needle ready and put it in my leg. Maybe I should say I put it on my leg. I meant to inject it but my skin is so tough that it just made a dent. Is the needle dull? Is it because I'm so weak? I was frustrated. My husband helpfully suggested that I just jab it in. I felt that if I picked it up it wasn't touching my skin again. So, I gathered my strength and pushed harder. I kept increasing the pressure until it finally broke the skin. Then I slowly injected all of the poison into my body. I removed the needle and realized I had nowhere to put it. I need to buy a sharps container. But it was done. It didn't really hurt physically. You can't even see the injection site on my leg. But emotionally....I was in turmoil. And I guess I still am.
Then there are blood draws. I go to the doctor a LOT. And almost every time they order lab tests. For my rheumatologist I will have to get my blood drawn at least once a month to make sure the Methotrexate is not hurting my liver, kidneys or bone marrow. The last time I was there his phlebotomist took 3 tries to get the blood that was needed. I have a huge bruise.
Lastly, sometimes the doctors want to give me shots or poke my fingers.
I can't even count how many needles have entered my body this year. My skin and veins are screaming, "enough!". One nurse said it was like my vein has a seizure or a panic attack when she tries to thread the IV. Sometimes they pop.

I am going to make a special appointment to get a port. That is a special place in my chest where they can put the IV and draw blood so that they don't have to find a vein all the time. A nurse told me I can use an anesthetic cream half an hour before I see them so that the needle doesn't hurt when it pierces my skin. So far all of the doctors have said no but I'm going to keep asking until I find the one who understands.