Afterwards she was thrilled to receive a brave-girl certificate from the nurse before going straight to the toy shop to pick out a special present.

When we got home she was so blase about the experience she could not even be bothered to talk about it.

"I was an extremely brave girl," was all she had to say.

I wasn't so brave, though, and had to cower in the corner until the dreadful deed was done. The thought of someone sticking a needle into my baby's arm was just awful and made even worse by my terrible phobia of injections.

I have never liked needles but managed to get through my childhood injections with very few problems.

It was not until I turned 18 that my phobia completely took over, when my brother and I went to get tetanus boosters together.

He was 14 at the time and took it like a man, winding up his sleeve and not even flinching at all. Me, on the other hand – well, I took it a little less well.

In fact one of my most vivid memories is of the nurse chasing me round the room while my brother laughed and my mum gave me daggers.

The only thing that finally got me to roll up my sleeve was when the nurse told my mum there was no way she would be able to do the injection and I would have to go back another time. The very idea of having to return to the room from hell made me stop running, and before I knew it, it was all over.

My next booster shot was even more traumatic. This time I was 28 and the job of injection supervisor was given to my husband. Once again I refused to let the needle anywhere near me and I can still remember my husband shouting: "Quick nurse, I'll hold her down while you stick the needle in," as they both chased me round the room like a scene from Carry On Doctor.

To say I'm not too good with needles would be something of an understatement, and it terrifies me because my next tetanus booster is due in October. Perhaps by then I can find another victim – I mean volunteer – to be my injection companion. Volunteers, anyone?