I have had an irrational fear of needles for as far back as I can recall. This fear is due, in no small part, to my harassment at the hands of my father and brothers. My earliest recollection of this fear was when I was approaching my 5th birthday and being informed that I would have to get a DPT Booster shot... which my father overdramatized, largely due to his own phobia. My 10th birthday was greeted with a wonderful ditty that I believe either one of my brothers fabricated and all three used to mock me from time to time "Ten.. ten... booster shot again." Now, it sounds silly, but taking an individual with a deathly fear of needles and adding insult to injury is how we develop psychoses... or something like that.
Now, as most of you are aware, about two months ago, I was diagnosed as a diabetic. As of about 6 weeks ago, I started sticking myself with a lancet between 1 and 4 times a day to ascertain my blood sugar so as to make sure that I was within the proscribed limits. As I did this again today and milked the hell out of one of my fingers, I realized that the process really didn't bug me anymore... which is a stark contrast from the near-panic that hit me on the fateful day that my sacred life fluid was tapped and stolen to confirm that my blood sugar was over 500 (mg/dL).
And then, as I was reading about the inane decision on the part of the FDA to refuse gay men the option of donating blood, I said to myself... "You know.. I think I could stomach that." Yes, this is the same guy who dragged his wife (then-girlfriend) with him to get a tetanus shot due to the pure terror it struck in his heart. You know what the best part of all of this is (in terms of irony)? For probably the next year, I'm ineligible to donate due to the impetus of my changed perspective: diabetes... until my doctor says I'm properly in treatment, anyways.
Posted by Vengeful Cynic at May 23, 2007 10:59 PM | TrackBack