I Have Become Brave!

I Have Become Brave!

Back in the day, when we lived in East Africa, it seemed to me, as a child, there were very many regular visits to the Medical Officer of Health's office, where we would be inoculated against smallpox, yellow fever, typhoid, para typhoid - I remember we did not have to have cholera, as that particular delight was reserved for people living in West Africa - and the number of times we had to attend filled me with dread.

My fear was not eased when on one occasion, standing about third in line for my inoculation - there wasn't a privacy, everyone just queued up - I watched a great strapping chap in front of me, rolling up his sleeve and standing "arms akimbo," baring his arm in readiness for the inoculation. He was having what was called a "cholera cocktail" - I think a combination of at least two, or possibly three, vaccines - and as it was administered, he fainted! This was not conducive to inducing a feeling of confidence in those of us who were left still facing our moment of truth.

I don't recall having any particularly bad after-effects, but I absolutely loathed the actual moment of being injected with the serum. In those days, disposable, one-use needles were not around; needles were sterilised in autoclaves, and then reused. Of course, patients weren't injected one after the other with the same needle - everyone had a freshly sterilised one - but I have no idea how many times they were used before being deemed too blunt to keep. Unless you were lucky to be one of the first few people being injected, things got more painful. 

I also hated the idea of blood tests - I rarely had one of those, but on one occasion when I did, I certainly didn't believe the Doctor who tried to convince me there was nothing to it. He told me his daughter simply loved having her blood taken, and would actually hold out her arm and ask, "Can I have another blood test, Daddy?" 

"Oh, yes," I remember thinking, "and what scientific subject is she most interested in?!"

So it went on like this for me, for years. I would submit to it all when I had to, but always attending with trepidation! 

In Dar-es-Salaam, we also took a regular dose of Daraprim to protect us against malaria. I remember it well, because I thought the name perhaps had something to do with Dar-es-Salaam itself! As a child, I had a very small dose. The pills were tiny, but I think I took half a tablet, twice a week; it could have been even less than that. I know now, the modern drugs tourists can take before going on holiday to areas with malaria-carrying mosquitoes may have very serious side effects, which rather puts me off travelling to such countries in the future; back in the 1950s, we had no such qualms. 

We also used a DDT spray each evening, to kill off any stray "mozzies" that could be lurking in the rooms; all windows had mesh inserts that would be put in place in the late afternoon, and then the spray gun would come out. We would make sure the little tin reservoir was filled up with the liquid, and then go around in each room, squirting this "flit" to into every corner and finally into the air, before leaving the room. 

We knew it wasn't a good idea to breathe in the spray, but then many people (mostly ladies, who might have bare legs - it was too hot to wear stockings!) would turn the flit gun on themselves, and spray their bare skin with DDT. Not everyone realised this could be absorbed through the skin! but it was a common practice; maybe that was considered a safer bet than getting bitten by a malaria-carrying mosquito.

Everyone had a yellow record card, showing all the vaccinations/inoculations they had received; there was no question of refusing such a document as, along with your passport, it was giving you freedom to travel, and I don't think anyone felt resentful, or intimidated, by carrying it.

And so, my trypanophobia endured for many decades. I gritted my teeth when I had to face anything involving needles, until one day, many years after I had returned to live in England, I had a lovely GP who said, "Oh, there's a way of doing blood tests and inoculations, that means they don't hurt!"

He knew I loved cats, and as he took hold of my arm, he proceeded to tell me all about his cats - and his two dogs - and I became so engrossed in what he was saying, I hadn't realised he had actually done the deed; I truly hadn't felt a thing! Apart from the "distraction therapy," I think he was also really skilled in aiming and hitting the target at precisely the right angle; at all events, I began to think there just might come a time when I would not be sitting in the waiting room, in great trepidation, waiting for my name to be called.

And then ... I also discovered EMLA Cream. This is the same medication that dentists can rub on gums prior to giving injections to numb the nerves before fillings, etc., and it comes in a 5g tube you can buy over the counter at the chemist. This is terrific stuff! and especially useful  in recent times, when we have had to have so many vaccinations during the pandemic, and you have no idea how good the person administering the serum will be. Now it really does not matter! An hour or so before zero hour, I spread the cream over a goodly portion of my upper arm (giving plenty of options for the nurse to aim for), cover it with some cling film or a plastic food bag and I am ready to go. It is truly the most effective antidote against fear of needles I have ever come across; and I am very grateful to know about it.

Since being triple-vaccinated against the virus, I have also had the "ordinary" flu vaccine and, most recently, the vaccine against pneumonia. 

When I first heard about EMLA cream, I was reminded of the name of a sherry that was popular in the 1970s - EMVA Cream - but as I drink but very rarely, the EMVA Cream option was not going to be of much use to me; I might have had to drink a great deal of it to lose my fear and, as I would actually prefer to remain conscious, EMLA Cream is my go-to solution of choice. Wouldn't it have been wonderful, to have known about it 70+ years ago!