To listen to this post in French, click below
A remarkable post at The Joy of Six set me reminiscing. I have mentioned several times over the two years I have been blogging that I was bedridden for a whole year when I was five. I was supposedly suffering from a kidney disease which meant eating no salt or salty things and a lot of blood tests, urine samples and doctors’ visits. I was not supposed to leave my bed, not even to go to the toilet. That whole period remains like a long cloudy cottony period with a few fun moments. One of the nice things was that I was in my parents’ bed. There was no television in those days, and I couldn’t read yet, although I did teach myself during that period. My aunt Fanny would read to me Mataboli et Matabolette over and over again, until I had memorised it. My grandmother Léa sat by the bed and taught me how to play cards. We played for hours on end.
O nce there was a chimney fire, and several firemen invaded the bedroom. They were feeling the walls for heat, and at one point, one of them put his ear against the wall and burnt himself. That really set me giggling in my bed. As I’m writing this, I remember his stunned face and it still makes me laugh! In those days, I didn’t have much to laugh about.
There was one period when they would come and give me a shot every three hour. Then, syringes and needles had to be sterilized before use, so I would hear the nurse going into the kitchen, and the clatter of the pan in which she boiled her instruments, while I shivered with fear in my bed.
I don’t remember the pain so much, but the apprehension I felt while I heard her footsteps in the corridor.
Like Joy, I still hate injections, nurses, doctors, dentists and the likes. I tell myself that I am a grownup, and have to behave, but I do try to keep doctors away.
- Hope you’ll forgive the lousy sound of the recording, but I can’t do any better while I am using my laptop.
- Want a good laugh? Read Judy’s They walk among us stories
- This post, like all the others, was written thanks to Meg at MandarinDesign. She has left us but her skills and knowledge is still alive at her blog.
- On a daily basis, I upload quite a lot of photos onto my flickr account, but I choose one a day, which I blog at Claude’s Daily Snap
Blogging in Paris 
Loved the photo of your “Dummy Doctor”.
Sounds like you had a rough go of it there for a while as a child. And that clamor in the kitchen preparing for shots had to be very unsettling.
Went over and read Judy’s “They Walk Among Us” and just as you said, really funny!
I hate it when children are sick – just not natural. I can understand why you hate the thought of doctors, nurses and shots.
I wish there was an English translation of your children’s book. I linked to your previous post and it sounds charming! There are still books I search for that I had as a child but can’t find – even with Google and Ebay!
I was also frustratingly cut off the internet—for nearly three days. I went into withdrawal! In any case, Joy\’s post was classic. I think many people of a certain age had prolonged confinement in childhood. You obviously suffered tremendously but you had a chance to share the company of your family to a degree many children miss. Not that you had a choice, of course!
Once again, I do so enjoy the photos of Monsieur Mounir.
Oh Claude, not only do we have our dislike for doctors and such…but we also have grandmothers who loved playing cards with us hours on end. I spent many such hours with my paternal grandmother….what a joy she was. She was the reason for my love of cards today. When you wrote of that shivering fear…I remember feeling the same way….oh, that horrible anticipation. Just because I’m a grown up doesn’t mean I like it any better…I just can’t complain to my Mommy…not that it got me anywhere. Thanks for the sweet mention Claude…
Did I really read here that you “hate nurses?” Hmmm,
but I won’t take it personally. (smile)
I had the same reaction to them and doctors as a child.
I was terrified of injections and maybe that’s why I worked so hard in nurses training
to learn the proper technique and avoiding pain to the patient.
I think I cried my way through my Pediatrics training…it really bothered me to see
children sick.
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I think I know how you felt. When I was five, I had the bones in my feet “reset.” Before that, I walked with my feet turning inward severely, so I didn’t walk well. This was in the early-1970s. I had heavy plaster casts on both my feet, up to the knee, and had to be carried everywhere. Fortunately, this didn’t go on for an entire year, but certainly for long enough.
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