Once upon a time, everyone who uses insulin or other injectable medications had to take their first shot. It's a nerve-wracking experience, to be sure, and one that elicits fear, loathing, sweating, tremors, tears, and memories of childhood injections. Remember when you were a kid, and needed a shot? The needle seemed like a spear, and the syringe must have been big enough to contain five gallons of whatever-it-was that was proposed to be injected. Tears, screams, and the word "no" were an altogether common response to seeing the device of doom. And that fear carries over to most adults, I think.
As a physician dealing with diabetes in my office practice for many years, I've seen adults with diabetes who absolutely refused to inject, even after months of poor control, and much cajoling from nurses and even from their diabetes doc (namely, me). And most people took a while to work up the nerve to "do the thing."
So did I. I recall sitting alone a big room in my house, needle/syringe in hand (and, empty, by the way), my skin scrubbed to a bright pink color, and my face probably turning red. After sweating a while (must have been at least five seconds, but it seemed like five hours), I jabbed myself, and thought the classic thought that everyone verbalizes after the first shot: "That didn't hurt a bit!"
Really, giving oneself an injection is practically painless, what with the new super-small n