That Little Prick

For my blogiversary, I wanted to do something super special, so... I started by not remembering it was my blogiversary, and then unintentionally made a very important life choice. That choice? It could be applied in so many ways, but at its core: I decided not to be afraid.

People are afraid all the time, for all kinds of reasons. Some are totally legitimate, some aren't. As I've mentioned previously (way back in my first post), there are two things that I'm afraid of. The second is much less ambiguous, and probably more ridiculous. Plain and simple: needles. Ever since the allergy testing of my youth (aka modern medical torture involving dozens of needle stabs and a lot of itching), I can't even see them in television (which made Grey's hard all those years) or hear people talking about them without freaking out. Not to the point of fainting, mind you, just to the point of awkward laugh and shudder sobbing - which terrifies people more than fainting usually. Crazy is scarier than harmlessly passed out.

With much resistance, I've kept updated on my basic shots over the years, but only twice have I ever "donated" blood. And by "donated," I mean, only twice have I ever allowed anyone to take a vial of the precious gold flowing through my veins. Once involved Robert Downey Jr, and the other Queen Latifah. Both involved me basically out of my mind - once with delusional illness, and the other with sheer panic. But that's a story for another day. This story is about yesterday.

The good old "annual physical" is coming up. Though lacking in many other adult duties (dentist ugh), going in for the annual check-up is one of the few I don't slack on. Health is important (and so is getting my prescriptions renewed, win-win). So, every spring I voyage to my hometown to see my doc. Yes, because I'm too lazy to have found a doctor in my actual city; plus, I trust her with my lady parts more than some stranger (there, I said it!). With the appointment looming, it was time for blood work.

After setting up an appointment with the local vampires, I immediately put it out of my mind. Didn't tell anyone about it, didn't think at all about what was coming. This was my way of preparing mentally for the task of putting aside fear. The night before, I didn't think about the fact that I had to "fast" for twelve hours in advance. Instead, I reminded myself of how one shouldn't stuff one's face after 8pm anyways, so good job me, way to adhere to a basic skinny-bitch principle. Off to bed with you!

The morning of, I put on my #bossbitch outfit and killer heels. Anytime you're feeling afraid inside, looking your best outside is essential. If you can fool everyone else, you can fool yourself!* All smiles, arriving at the lab, I made cheeky small talk with the receptionist and every other person in the waiting room. Laughter came easy: wearing a hairnet and chasing away fear with a broom. The wait wasn't awful, because I was surrounded by my now-best-friends as I chatted away.

Waiting for it to open...
Destiny's knockin' at the door of this waiting room!

The door opened, the nurse called my name. Within moments, I had recounted the tale of my previous lab encounter with Robert Downey Jr (aka her boss) and gotten her employment history. She picked this particular clinic for the flexible hours, she has a daughter at home and wants more time with her. The kid's name is Brianna, but she's not "Bri" for short. Her nickname is infinitely better - Geezer. Derived from the full length nickname of Breezer Geezer. And with that looming over her the rest of her life, that kid is bound to be a Noble Peace Prize winner, or a riverboat gypsy. No doubt in my mind.

And with that, it was already over and done. I had talked my way out of being afraid and it was done. Looking up at the nurse as she untied the band on my arm, I said, "You know, I used to be so afraid of needles. Petrified. I'd completely panic." She responded, "They really aren't so bad. When did you stop being afraid?" Putting back on my blazer, I turned at the door and smiled, "Today." A thoughtful look, well wishes to her and Geezer and a swift exit out into the new world.

There are so many more important things in life to worry about, that little fears shouldn't consume your time. You've got so much to do, and only so many hours in a day. Other people have much bigger worries, which puts silly things like a fear of needles into perspective. Just like there's no point in crying over spilt milk, there's no point in having a nervous breakdown over a tiny piece of plastic and metal that could save your life someday. Now, I'm not saying I'm "cured" of my phobia (because less than 12 hours later there was a needle scene in a movie that I pretty well lost my cool over), I'm just saying that the severity of fear can be controlled by your own optimism. Sometimes.



*Plus, someone made a fascinating comment the other day about how if you were to die today, the outfit you're wearing would be like, your ghost outfit. The outfit you're stuck in as a ghost forever. That completely blew my mind, so now I'm super self conscious about what I wear every day. And about crossing busy streets or eating expired food. Basically, I'm trying to dress better and avoid dying... It's a lot of pressure.