Look. The last year of my life has been full of needles. Blood draws, IV’s, and every single medic and nurse under the sun poking just to make sure I’m not in and out of consciousness due to blood sugar. I’ve made some serious progress with my needle fear. I used to never ever be able to go to get blood work done alone, and I always used to cry. Not little kid scream and cry and pull my arm away. I learned really young that moving the target NEVER helped. I never cried from the pain of course, I had just always worked myself up for it. My fear was significant enough that I didn’t work up the courage to get my ears pierced until I was 15 years old and I had wanted them pierced since my babysitter from ten years prior used to wear really cute and simple silver hoops.
When I had blood work done last month I was all prepared to maybe, MAYBE, maaaaybe watch her draw the blood. This would have been a first in my entire life, by the way. She ended up talking me out of it saying I didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. She’s one of my favorites, by the way, and she always makes sure my Coban matches my outfit. The time before that as I was sitting down the male phlebotomist was talking and explained he knew where everything in the building was because he was the maintenance man. These kinds of things are unnerving to patients. He was offended when I asked if he was also a phlebotomist or maybe just filling in for someone that day.
Anyways, don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’ve never watched any medical procedures. I watched in the ER when they did debridement on my brother’s shin before giving him stitches. I watched all the way until I woke up at the nurses station because I had passed out.
I’ve pretty much made a solid rule to never watch any procedure that is being done on me though. The rule has served me well.
Now I don’t cry with blood work ever anymore. I do much better with IV’s now and out of the last two or three I’ve had I only fainted for one of them, but I swear I hadn’t worked myself up. I felt super calm and in control but my body felt like throwing up and passing out, so I don’t think that one was my fault.
I’ve made significant progress with my needle fears and my ability to avoid working myself up, a fact that I am especially proud of throughout all of these challenges.
Fast forward to today. Today I said to myself, “it’s about dang time. I’ve wanted this for over 12 years. My husband is on board and has been mentioning it for at least 4 years. It’s time.” I secretly sent a Facebook message and set up an appointment for while Tom would be in town teaching at the gun range.
The plan was in action. Tom left and as soon as he was out of the driveway, the dogs and I jumped into the Jeep and left.
My appointment was at 1 o’clock and by 1:09 pm I was on my way back to the car with a super cute little pierced belly button.
A few thoughts from my first body piercing experience:
- Did you know you pay and give the tip before the piercing? I felt inclined to tip very well because you know, you want the person with the needle to be in a good mood.
- I think my favorite part was when I signed a medical release beforehand that said I am not known to faint. Hahahahaha.
- All these years I’ve been both scared/nervous, but also waiting for my body to be better and more toned. I’ve decided this is my body and I’m happy with it. I’ll always have a goal to work toward with my body and health, but it’s ok to accept my imperfections too.
Plus, I’m 30. Why not?
What have you been waiting for the perfect body to do? Is there some thing you’ve always wanted, but you’ve been too nervous to do? Go do it. I dare you.
I bet you’ll smile at the end of the day.