You may feel a small prick

If you get quezy at the mere suggestion of Injections, piercings and pricks of any kind then look away now... actually, I’m already starting to feel a little peaky myself. This week we are mainly dealing with sharp pointy needles.
Harriet, George and Wendy have all had injections this week in mouths, arms and hands (are you sure you’re not feeling quezy yet?). The first to get the needle was Hattie, she had to have a filling in one of her milk teeth (she declined the choice of having it forcibly removed). According to Harriet’s description of the incident the needle was at least two feet long. She was very brave and probably benefited from the fact that they just did it there and then and she didn’t get time to worry about it (I find I’m the same when I get my hairs cut... both of them). She had had a similar experience just two days before when she decided that she wanted her ears pierced. She had been toying with the idea for well over a year before suddenly deciding that this was the time (a bit like me when I was contemplating buying the ‘The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’* CD...okay that only took a couple of minutes to decide but it seemed a whole lot longer).
I seem to remember that piercings (ears only) were very popular when I was at secondary school, so much so, in fact that there was at least one person in every year that pierced their own ears with a compass. Actually (as my, then, Maths teacher Mr ‘Richo’ Richardson would have corrected me) that should be ‘pair of compasses’. You know, the things with a point at one end and a pencil on the other that you use for drawing circles - not the thing that you use to find out which way to go (no I don’t mean sat-nav, or a policeman). You couldn’t use a navigation compass to pierce your ears - that would be utter madness – whereas using an un-sterilised, blunt pointed bit of metal on your own ear is an eminently more sensible thing to do. No doubt the majority of these people who liked to inflict pain on themselves went on, in later life, to become live studio audience members for ITV sit-coms, Jim Davidson’s agent or Sheffield Wednesday supporters. Anyway, as far as I’m aware the holes in Harriet’s ears were produced by more conventional and hygienic methods. She is very happy with the piercings and as yet (to my great relief) hasn’t mentioned getting any others done (i.e. nose, eyebrow, tongue or belly button... I know there are other possibilities but I don’t even want to think about those).
After a discussion with Wendy on the subject George has indicated that he is never ever, ever having his ears pierced, either conventionally or DIY... we’ll see whether he still feels the same in four years time. Meanwhile, he had his inoculation jabs last Tuesday - one in each arm. He had the tetanus, diphtheria and whooping cough vaccine in one arm, and the hepatitis B and ‘Nintendo thumb’ vaccine in the other. I don’t know which arm got which, or whether that matters... but there were some very definite side-effects, namely nocturnal, projectile vomiting (oh yes, the best kind). George and at least four other of his classmates were violently sick during the night, luckily only one of them was actually sleeping at our house at the time (that’s George, of course). Although, whilst I was cleaning up at 2.30am (Wendy somehow slept through the whole episode) I was struggling to see how this could possibly be the work of just one person. Luckily, he soon recovered ... he was well enough to go to school the next day. Well, we sent him anyway.
The brighter ones amongst you (I’m saying nothing) will have worked out by now that it must be Wendy who had the injection into her hand. You will have also worked out that such a procedure is never going to be anything but painful... not many flabby, fleshy bits to inject into in your hand. Not surprisingly, this wasn’t the first idea they had come up with for fixing up her old surfing injury. She damaged a tendon whilst battling 2 metre waves way back in the summer and despite anti-inflamatories, finger straps and lots of verbal encouragement the injury hasn’t cleared up. So, as a last ditch attempt, before she has to go under the knife, they (those clever medical boffins) decided to try a cortisone shot. Not sure if it’s working yet but it has created some very interesting bruising and her biceps are firming up.
As part of his PEAC course this term George is building a model (00 gauge) of his ‘Dream Home’ (it just looks like a normal home but this one doesn’t appear to have his mum and dad in it). In fact, as I type this (very slowly), he is sat next to me hacking through thick card with a Stanley knife and covering the surface of my desk (quite why he couldn’t use his own desk I’m not sure) in generous layers of rather evil smelling glue . Clearly these are the sort of things that you should do only do under the supervision of a responsible adult ... oh dear.
Wendy is still in the process of booking flights for her South Africa/UK trip, so as yet she has been unable to finalise dates/times/flight numbers/aeroplane meals/where her luggage will end up, yet. It’s taking a bit of working out seeing as she is going to be on about 7 or 8 flights during her 3 week trip. The week she gets back from the UK she is going to have to fly over to Sydney for four days to attend a conference with work. Luckily it just happens to coincide with the second week of the school holidays so me and the kids are going to tag along with her (to Sydney that is, not the conference). We have no plans to climb the harbour bridge, although I am quite keen to find out where they film Aerobics Oz Style. All I know is that the Opera House is always in the background, and there are always some balding, middle aged men milling around as well (a role I was born to play).
Anyway, I’m off to watch a new Aussie TV comedy/drama that looks like it might be half decent... the first one I’ve come across in the two-and-a-half years that we have been here.
Later,
H
* The Pains of Being Pure at Heart are an American indie guitar band that ‘I’ recently discovered. They are excellent, albeit with a terrible name.
Please note how I managed to do a whole section on body piercing without once mentioning Queen Victoria’s husband. I wonder if anyone has done a DIY version of that with a pair of compasses. Oohh no.