Needle Work

“This vein is no good. We will have to try another one.” These are the words I heard as the technician rips the needle out of my right arm. “It’s just a little needle, see look…it’s just a small pinch.” She derogates again as she moves from one side of the chair to begin prepping my left arm for the same torture.

“I don’t like needles.” I whimper turning my face aside. “I really don’t like needles.”

To which the technician proclaims, “It will all be over soon.”  Unfortunately, the technician defined ‘Soon’ with two more pricks and twists while another technician assisted to finalize the torture. I left with two bandages (it was actually three but she took one off to reduce the indication of me being tortured) and two bruises. But I’m hoping for positive results so I don’t have to be poked and prodded anymore until next year.

Who does that? Gets bloodied and bruised and hopes for good results. Really, to verify my level of health (and ultimately provide myself with some since of comfort), I need to subject myself to painful procedures. This is probably why I don’t diet…its painful to give up pizza and cookies and ice cream! Then I remember the favorite dress I can’t fit because my butt is too big.  That’s painful too. 

So what’s the choice? Suffer the pain now; or suffer later. Maybe if I established some form of diet earlier in life, I wouldn’t suffer the wiles of squeezing into my clothes. Or better yet, maybe if I established some form of proper exercise regimen, I wouldn’t suffer the agony of pushing myself out of the door now. It’s all a dang if you do; dang if you don’t type thing. If I make the sacrifices now, I will be happier later. If I don’t, then I’m going to suffer later.  Either way, I am going to endure some form of pain.

No, it’s not comforting. Then, again, truth never is. The truth is, suffering, sacrifice, pain, hurt, depression…are all a natural part of life. No matter how great or bad our life; how wonderful or sad our circumstances; in order for us to have some validity to our being; something has to fail; not act right; and turn aside. Something has to go out of order; for us to realize that we are alive. They don’t write stories and/or make movies based on the life of someone who never had a challenge or suffered some great defeat! Why? Because it doesn’t offer hope.

Everyone is searching for hope — hope to improve whatever is perceived to be wrong. Everyone needs to feel as though their situation can and will get better. And that’s what keeps us alive; that’s what keeps us going. So, though I absolutely unequivocally disdain having any form of needle work performed on my person (that includes tattoos of which I have two), I will hold my breath and endure the pain for the hope of something greater. And with this hope, I open my heart to live and receive better.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. — Hebrews 11: 1 KJV