IN last week’s column, I mentioned how much I personally have benefited from the NHS.

Now this week, it has come to my rescue again with a new course of treatment.

I won’t go into specifics at present, but I must admit that I am absolutely petrified about this development.

You see, it involves injecting myself with medicine every day for the foreseeable future. Yes, injecting myself, as in inserting a syringe into my own body.

As I write, I am staring at needle number one, wishing that I was braver than I am and that I had already gone and got it over with.

Is it best to just move as quickly as possible to jab yourself, or is a slow and steady approach the way forward?

I’m leaning toward the former, following the age-old advice re removing plasters. It’s not really the same thing at all, of course.

I suppose I am a little wussy about this whole scenario – after all, many people endure far, far worse on a daily basis – as needles and I have a bad history. I have fainted on numerous occasions where they have been involved.

It all started when I went to donate blood when I was a teenager. I do remember that the needle was a pretty big one so I just tried to look the other way while my life force was draining away.

After I donated, I fainted so many times – despite the orange juice and biscuits that the nice nurse gave me – that they struck me off the register.

It was very frustrating, because giving blood is such an important thing to do and is a relatively easy way in which we all can help to give a little back. Since then, I have fainted when much larger injections were involved – to be fair, they went into my spine and were much more frightening.

Thinking about it, though, I can’t really blame the needles for the fainting as that seems to be just something my body does when it runs low on sugar or energy.

I passed out on a packed bus in Dublin whilst at university and I have also fainted at the Aquadrome after getting out of the swimming pool. Swimming really takes it out of you.

Most dangerously, a few years ago I passed out at a bar in London. It was the middle of the day and I was meeting my best friend for lunch. I went up to buy us some drinks and fainted dead away onto the floor, dropping my wallet in the process.

Luckily, I was surrounded by honest folk who immediately helped me up and handed me the belongings which had rolled along the floor when I’d let go of them. One glass of full sugar coke later, I was able to walk back to my friend to explain why her drink had taken so long!

These new injections are obviously important, so I just need to get on with it. Here goes – wish me luck.