Day 06 - Something you hope you never have to do.

Photo Credit: Kym Shumsky (

I think it’s pretty obvious that I hope to never have to say a permanent goodbye to my son or husband or any future addition to our family. I wish there was a way to guarantee that I’d never have to lose anyone I love again, but life just doesn’t work that way.

So, I’m going to go for a less obvious choice.  

I hope I never have to sit and watch my son or husband treated for any serious injuries.

You’re probably thinking, “That’s not so different.” But it is. I’m not talking life-threatening stuff here - broken arm, a gash that requires stitches. Anything that involves pain, needles and possible grunts, groans or screaming.


Because I’m a complete wimp. The first time I had blood taken, I passed out as soon as they pulled the needle out of my arm. I even warned them and they didn’t believe me! Fortunately, I was in a kushy recliner that was the perfect place to pass out. I’ve since become accustomed to the whole blood-taking process. Since I moved to Canada and every doctor’s appointment seems to lead to a bloodwork requisition, I had to stop being a complete sissy about it.

To watch someone I love in pain or being put through pain to heal them isn’t something I’m sure I can stomach. I would desperately want to be there for them, a supportive and comforting presence. Not a presence that will pass out at the first sign of icky or a needle.

I did pretty well last summer when Brandon developed celulitis in one of his eyes and had to be treated via IV antibiotics, but it is not something I ever want to repeat. Thankfully, when the infection moved to his right eye just 6 weeks later, we took him to CHEO immediately when we saw his eye swelling. No IV!!

This was always one of my fears about having children. My own mother was fortunate enough not to have injury-prone children. I’m fairly sure none of us ever broke any bones. The worst injuries were a couple of gashes that needed stitches. Me and my older brother both got them on the head and my younger brother got a fantastically huge splinter at St. George Island when he was running on one of the boardwalks. I don’t remember any other injuries. Perhaps because my own head injury wiped those memories clean?

Children have accidents and some are preventable. Others are not. I guess I’m just hoping that my child will bounce and not break skin or bones when he has these accidents. Otherwise, I’m going to have to figure out a way to de-sissify myself so I can be that calm, supporting presence.

Are you squeamish about injuries like I am? How do you handle your kids’ injuries?


This post is all about truth - Day 6 of my 30 Days of Truth. I’m not the only one, so here are some others if you’re interested.