I was a student working in the ER of a major city hospital one summer day in 1960. On that day, after I had weighed her in the triage area, I escorted Sharon, a young woman working in the hospital’s Admitting Office, down a side hallway to a curtained room with two beds. Sharon, who was wearing a summer-weight patterned dress, took off her heels and sat down on the edge of one of the beds. Sharon had been told by the ER attending doctor that she’d been exposed to infectious hepatitis by a patient, whose admission she had processed earlier that day. To ward off the chance she would contract that dangerous disease, he told her that she was going to be given gamma globulin.

After about ten minutes, a nurse in a crisp white uniform, cap entered the room, carrying a stainless-steel tray with two glass syringes, each filled with a viscous, amber-colored serum. The needles are long — nearly two and a half inches — and capped with a glass tube. Alongside them are alcohol-soaked cotton balls and a small bottle of antiseptic. The nurse asked Sharon, “I understand Dr. Nelson has explained everything; that you are going to be given two injections in your backside — one in each buttock?"

Sharon responded, "Yes, but I’m... really nervous. I don’t like needles at all."

The nurse gently tells her, "That’s perfectly natural, and I am sorry that we have to give you these injections. Gamma globulin is a thick serum must be injected deeply into the gluteal muscles of your buttocks. I need you to lie face down on the bed and lift your dress above the waist."

Sharon hesitates, then turns, sees me and blushes, and carefully lies down on her stomach. She reaches back and pulls her dress up above her waist, exposing her shorty panty girdle, fastened to her beige nylon stockings. The nurse set the tray down on the table and stepped forward, preparing to adjust Sharon’s clothing.

"I’m going to roll down your girdle now and lower your underpants so I can expose both injection sites."

The nurse unhooked the back garters from Sharon’s stockings and rolled her cream colored, panty girdle down to the middle of her thighs. Then, after asking Sharon to lift her hips, she carefully lowered her pink satin underpants to a few inches below the bottom of her buttocks, exposing the full contour of her pale, white hips and backside. Sharon’s body momentarily tensed, as she felt the sudden coolness of the air on her bare backside, her face pressed into the pillow.

Sharon, in a soft voice, whispered, “I’m sorry... I didn’t know it would be like this... I feel so exposed."

The nurse replied, "There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a routine procedure. I have given many of these injections."

The nurse reached for a sterile cotton ball, soaked with alcohol, and swabbed Sharon’s right buttock. Leaving the cotton ball on her back, she picked up the first syringe, tapped it, to expel a small air bubble, and placed her left hand firmly on Sharon’s hip for steadiness.

Without further warning, the 18-gauge, 2-inch needle plunged through the skin, deep into Sharon’s right buttock. She tensed immediately, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as the needle slides all the way into her muscle. As the nurse began to push the plunger, Sharon felt the pressure of the medication began almost immediately; the sensation was deep and uncomfortable.

“Oh God... it hurts... it really hurts...!”

“I know, hon,” the nurse tells her. “Deep breath. This will be over in a couple of minutes. Stay with us. You’re doing great.”

The nurse gently pushes the plunger, allowing the thick gamma globulin to enter the muscle slowly. Sharon grits her teeth, trying to hold back the tears.

“It feels... it feels like ... Please hurry...”

“I know it feels like that. Just a little more, I promise. You’re almost through the worst of it.”

“It’s not like last time I got a shot... It’s worse... so much worse...”

“I know it hurts, hun, but you’re stronger than this. The more you fight it, the worse it’s going to feel. Relax. Just focus on my voice. Breathe in for me... slowly... slowly... that’s it.”

Sharon’s legs begin to shake, her breath catching in her throat. She cries, “Please... I can’t stand it anymore... It’s hurting so bad...”

“Just breathe, Sharon. You’re doing amazing. We need you to breathe through it... I know it hurts, but you’ve got this. Just think about how this is keeping you safe, okay? Just a little longer...”

The thick gamma globulin continued to flow slowly into Sharon’s right buttock, the pain intensifying with every second that ticked by. Sharon felt as though the pain is spreading throughout her entire hip and into her thigh. She cried, “I can’t... I can’t take much more... please... please take it out, nurse...”

The nurse quietly responded, “Almost there, Sharon. Just a little bit longer. We need you to hang in there for a few more seconds, alright? We’re almost through this part, I promise.”

Sharon’s breath hitches, a sob escaping her mouth as she fights to stay still. Finally, the nurse pulled the long, thick needle quickly but gently from her throbbing buttock, and pressed the cotton ball on the injection site with a gentle hand. Sharon let out a strained yelp, her body trembling slightly from the pain. The nurse told, her, “It’s all over now, Sharon. The needle is out. One down. Just one more to go, and you’re through with it. How are you holding up?”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out... That was worse than I thought.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m really sorry. You just need to hold on for one more shot. It’ll be better once it’s done.”

The nurse prepped the second syringe, positioning it to the left of Sharon’s hips. She swabbed her left buttock with alcohol. Sharon winced and pleaded, “Can’t we... can’t we just do one? Please? I can’t take another one like that...”

The nurse explained to her, “I wish we could, hon, but this is the way it has to be. We have to give you the full dose of protection, and we need to finish it. I will be gentle. I promise.”

With that, she pushed the long, thick needle into Sharon’s left buttock. Sharon gasped once more, as a sharp sting began shooting through her body, her muscles fighting the pressure. The second injection was just as painful as the first — perhaps even worse, with the soreness already starting to settle in.

It... it hurts so much...!

The nurse again slowly injected the second dose of gamma globulin, the medication, deep and thick, being pushed through Sharoni’s muscle tissues. Sharon’s breath caught in her throat; the pain spreading. She cried, “I... I can’t... I just want it to stop... Take it out!”

Sharon’s breath came in quick, shallow gasps, and despite her best efforts to stay composed, her tears spilled out all over. Sharon’s chest rose and fell with her effort to hold it together, but the wave of pain was too much. She screamed. “I can’t... I can’t do this anymore... Please! Make it stop!... Take it out now!!!”

Sharon’s body shook as sobs wracked her chest. The pain felt intense, and she felt the medication seeping deeper, spreading its agony.

The nurse tried to reassure her, saying, “Just a few more seconds, Sharon, perhaps a minute... We’re almost there. Just breathe for us, okay?”

Sharon’s legs can’t stay still as the last of the thick serum is being pushed into Sharon’s behind. The nurse asked me to hold her legs, while she tried to calm Sharon, whose sobbing was clearly audible.

Finally, she pulled the needle out, and the release of pressure made Sharon’s body lurch. Her tears were falling freely now; her sobs loudly escaped her throat as the tension in her body began to unravel.

“It hurts... it hurts so much... I don’t know how I did it... I just... I just wanted it to end... I’m sorry... I didn’t... I didn’t want to cry... I just couldn’t take it anymore... It’s just... it’s so much more painful than I thought it would be... I thought maybe I could handle it, but... it felt like my whole backside was on fire.”

The nurse tried to reassure her, “It’s okay, Sharon. It’s perfectly fine to cry. You were in pain, and that’s okay. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s normal to feel like this. I know. You did amazing. I wish there was an easier way, but you got through it.”

Sharon felt some relief from the alcohol-soaked cotton, and the nurse’s gentle massage over the injection site.

The nurse told her, “Feel free to take a few minutes to compose yourself and dress. We’ll step out and I’ll return to my other patients. Do you need anything before we leave?"

Sharon felt the nurse lift the back of her dress slightly and smooth it back down, covering her bare behind; the fabric felt cool against her skin. The nurse turned and picked up the tray and the syringes and swabs. She paused; then, the curtain parted as we left the room. Sharon let out a slow, shaky breath, remaining frozen for a moment on the edge of the bed. The dull, spreading ache in her backside pulsed with every heartbeat. But what caught her more off-guard than the pain was the heat behind her eyes.

She blinked hard. But the tears came anyway — not loud, not dramatic, just quiet and hot, trailing down her cheeks while she lay there, trying to gather herself. The pain of the injections was nothing compared to the feeling of her exposure, her helplessness, and her sudden loss of control in a space she thought she could handle as an adult.

Sharon eventually eased herself off the bed carefully, wincing as her weight shifted to her legs. Her backside throbbed with a dull, insistent ache — deep in the muscles where the thick serum had settled. The injections had left her feeling light-headed, embarrassed, and oddly vulnerable. Her skirt had slid back down, but her underthings were still where the nurse had left them — her girdle bunched at her mid-thighs, her pink satin underpants still twisted below her hips.

Sharon reached back and, lifting her skirt in the back, gently pulled up her underpants, and having noticed a gap in the curtain, she tried to keep herself covered in front. She then began painfully working her girdle back into place, inch by inch. It was snug, tight over the soreness now pulsing in both buttocks. Sitting gingerly back down on the bed, she refastened each garter tab one by one, her fingers moving automatically despite her discomfort. She adjusted the hem of her dress and smoothed it down over her knees, then she put on her heels.

She reached behind her discreetly as she walked toward the curtain, her hand hovering near the back of her skirt. She wanted to rub the soreness — needed to, really — but she hesitated. The nurse had told her she’d need to sit in her office for fifteen minutes — standard precaution after gamma globulin. Sharon didn’t feel faint, exactly, but her legs were shaky, and both her eyes and her backside burned.

As she left the room, she approached me in the hall. She tried to smile, but I could see the pain in her expression. I smiled at her and told her, “I am so sorry that we had to give you those injections. I am sure you were embarrassed, but we had to do that to protect you. I know those injections hurt, but trust me, catching hepatitis is much worse. Try to walk some steps when you get home. It will be uncomfortable, but it will help to prevent the muscles from getting stiff and sore. And take a warm bath.”

“Thank you,” Sharon smiled. “I was embarrassed, but I appreciate your kindness. I hope to see you around the hospital.” And with that, Sharon walked back to the Admissions Office, and I went back to the ER.