My first cannula

 But not, alas, my last. 

There used to be a range of toys by a company called Tomy which had 'My first...' at the start of the name. My first Train Set, that kind of thing. Well here is my first cannula, at the age of 65. Cro had dozens of these buggers and hated them all, frankly. I am going to have to get used to them.

Also, I was rather miffed that this one was put in as a precaution in case I needed a saline drip after being taken in with low sodium. And it was never used because it turned out to be a different cause. But when they needed blood samples they still had to stick a needle in my other arm

These, I know, are some of the things - lets call them rites of passage or perhaps ritual humblings - that one has to get used to for one's greater good when proper serious illness comes calling. I don't know whether I should consider them as toughening me up or softening me down, but a change is needed in some direction when these bumps come along. 

And, of course, as an extra 'You didn't see that one coming', the cannula left me with a bleed so I know have a saucer-size bruise on my inner arm (see pic below)

Ah well. Breathe. Count to 10. Think of the science. Think of everyone behind you. And off we go.