When I was younger I had a huge shot phobia. I hated shots with a passion, and had to be bribed with a slush to go and get them. One time in particular I went to the doctor with my mom to get a booster shot that I needed for school. The nurse needed to put the shot in my thigh, so I sat there holding onto my mom, both of them telling me to relax because tensing up makes the shot hurt more. I was crying my eyes out because I hated shots so much. The second that needle went into my thigh I jerked my leg so hard that I ended up bending the needle all up. Needless to say I did not get out of getting that shot... instead a team had to come in and hold me down to give me the shot. I continued to be terrified of shots for a long time after that, but I don't recall ever having to be held down again after that incident. Then when it came time for me to move to college my mom knew me better than I knew myself. I needed to get the flu shot so that I wouldn't catch the flu that year. The catch... mom knew that I would lie and say that I got the shot when in reality I would have skipped. To prove that I got the shot I had to get a receipt from the doctor. Pathetic... I know. That was a major year for me... I went on my own and was given the first flu shot that I had had in years. I was nervous and ridden with anxiety, but of course I didn't cry because that would be embarrassing. In the next few years I developed kidney infections that required multiple anti-biotic shots in the back of my hips. If anything stings it would be those shots simply because of how thick the anti-biotic is. The ironic part now is that I actually prefer getting a jump start antibiotic shot when ill which allows me to take less pills and feel better quicker rather than just having the antibiotic pills.
I've came a long way from being that little girl bending needles and faking flu shots. Proof? A couple of weeks ago Chris talked me into donating blood finally. that was clearly the thickest needle that I've ever seen. I never donated before due to my weight not being high enough but that excuse end about a year ago. Chris donates every chance he can get legally, so I thought that it was about time that I start too. So we headed up to the blood donation clinic with plans to eat a huge breakfast afterwards. I filled out my paperwork, passed the question and health part, and was all set to sit down and donate. I was slightly nervous of course because hey... I'm a worry wart. I sat in the chair and the nice nurse explained everything that she was doing step by step. The needle did sting a little bit going in, but nothing that I couldn't handle. They put my bags on a scale instead of something called "the shaker" because to be on "the shaker" I need to gain two pounds. Also in case you are wondering, I do not know what "the shaker" is at this time. So the nurse stayed with me the whole time chatting with me because my blood was apparently moving "quickly" and with my weight they didn't want to go even a smidge past one pint. It was SO easy that I couldn't believe that I hadn't donated before.
Then I started to get a bit hot... and my eye sight started to fade out. I didn't worry for a few seconds because that sometimes happens when I get up way too quickly. So I blinked a few times, counted to ten silently and and then started to get nervous. My eye sight wasn't coming back and I was getting very hot and my hearing was starting to sound a little muffled. What was going on?? Take a guess.... yep... my body was starting to go into shock. They quickly raised my legs, put ice packs all over me, and the nurse who had been with me the whole time held my hand and kept talking so that I would know she was there. I didn't cry, but I was scared and did tell her because my eye sight had never faded out for that long. They gave me some gatorade and cookies to try and help but it didn't kick in until after my sight had been gone for about two minutes. They asked if I had anything to eat before and of course I said "no, my husband said we're supposed to eat afterwards and that we don't need to eat before." Luckily the nurse knew this was my first time, nobody had told me to eat before, and my husband was across the room having his own blood taken. They politely told my husband that I have to eat before and after because of my weight. Nobody was upset, everyone was light hearted about it and remained calm full of laughter after the whole episode. However I learned a very important lesson...
My husband clearly does not always know what he is talking about... but yes I still love him. I also learned that I am a match for Chris blood wise but while I can donate to him, he cannot donate blood to me. I guess he is just a taker and not a giver ;) lol
I'll be donating again in two months after I eat a huge breakfast followed by a huge lunch.
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