I tighten the tourniquet around my arm. My median cubital vein is always visible which makes blood tests easy. What I like about needles and syringes are the sloping holes; they look menacing and remind me of daddy’s bamboo stick sword.
He used to keep it in the living room as a piece of decoration. One day when I was very young I drew the sword from its sheath, so I could survey the blade made of carbon steel. I remember feeling vehemently attracted to the tip of the sword and like Princess Helen I pricked my finger on the spindle, except that I didn’t die, instead I had an epiphany. I knew then what that sting in later years would feel like. It gave me a rough idea of what love might be. I was prepared for the pain as well as for the blood.
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