Saturday, April 28, 2012

Needle Phobia

Never in my life have I been a fan of needles. When I got my ears pierced at the age of fifteen, my mom commented on how she had never seen me sit so still before. My needle phobic issues are more along the trypanophobia lines, then just all needles in general. As most things medical just generally freak me out. So while getting my ears pierced definitely held me still as can be, it’s when I have to do things like blood work that I feel like turning into a toddler even to this day.

Logic always tells me, “It’s not as bad as you make it seem.” However, it never fails that feeling of butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Anxiousness that makes me want to hop up from my seat in the waiting room and run for the hills as it were. I never watch them draw my blood. I always squeeze something in my free hand (or make a fist), hold my breath while looking away and clench my jaw tight. It’s a whole big physical reaction and all the while, that logic kicks into the back of my head.

Yesterday was the second time this month I had to get blood work done. The first round happened exactly one week ago Friday. I was anxious, but I managed to get through it without throwing myself on the floor in a screaming fit. Oh yes, I’m twenty-seven and I fully admit I still want to throw myself on the floor kicking and screaming at the thought of a needle getting me. However I did manage to survive. Well it turned out my potassium level was a tad high, so round two had to happen.

I admit I wasn’t feeling quite as anxious the second time around. I did however feel nearly faint at one point when I swore I could have heard a gurgle sound from what I presume was the syringe being used. Quite frankly even an unfamiliar sound couldn’t make me look. No fainting occurred though and thankfully on my second time around, I ended up with another nice technician who didn’t viciously jab me with the needle like in my nightmares. Gentle touches are always appreciated!

Here I am though today with an arm that’s probably only sore, because it has a bruise on it and I’m aware of it. Both times I got poked this month, were in the same place on my inner right elbow. I offered up the same arm to the lady yesterday, in lieu of risking having to even glimpse for a split second syringes or vials with my blood in them. So now of course, being the twenty-seven year-old toddler I am about needles, my arm hurts and the bruising has worsened just a tiny tad.

Granted, I’m happy to know my doctor is on top of things and she’ll request extra tests if need be. I also do want to get my health in order as I don’t want to end up with medical problems like many of my family members endure. I will say though, if I get another phone call from the nurse at my doctor’s officer telling me there needs to be a round three I may just have a full on tantrum.

--XOXO, Jane

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