The Fear of Needle

The Fear of Needle

Last year I came to know that both my parents were sick. So I went to stay with them for a couple of days. The next day, I drove both of them to the nearby hospital, where the doctor asked me to get their blood tested.

When we went downstairs where the lab for the blood test was, I noticed that my father looked terrified. I smirked as the thought of my father being scared of a needle passed through my mind.

As soon as the attendant asked my father to sit on the chair, my father looked at my mother and said, “Hold my hand, please. I won’t be able to do it alone.”

My mother readily held his hand and assured him that it was just a needle, and he would be alright. My father further clung to my mother’s side when he saw the attendant approaching the needle and squeezed her hands.

It was funny for me to see my father behave like a child.

Then came my mother’s turn. The woman who was consoling her husband just a few seconds before seemed equally terrified of the needle.

She looked at my father in the hope that now he would hold her hand and console her.

But to my utter surprise, my father completely ignored my mother and stormed out of that lab. I was perplexed at the level of the selfishness of my father, but did not utter a word and instead held my mother’s hand.

The Fear of Needle

The same evening, I found myself sitting alone with my father in the hall. When I could not hold myself anymore, I reminded him of the scene of him leaving my mother when she needed him and asked, “Why did you do that? She held your hand when you needed her. Why could not you do the same for her?”

My father looked at me and said, “Because I love her. When I could not bear the sight of a needle how can I see your mother in the pain?”

Honestly, My love and respect for my father increased after hearing this.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You May Also Like