”The Blood of A Vampire: Taking The Blood of A Romanian After Fasting”.
This post is not meant to diagnose, treat, or save you from mental illness, if you or someone you love is in danger, please get help. You can text HOME to 741741 to be connected with a crisis counselor. I personally have. You can also call or text 988 for suicide and crisis help.
http://www.cdc.gov/suicide/facts
****Trigger warning, contains medical descriptions. ~
When getting your blood drawn there can be a lot of factors at play. For one thing, there are needles involved. Secondly, there can be some reservations about getting your vein poked, feeling the flushing in your arm, the size of your veins, being dehydrated or how much you ate that day. It’s also possible your medical history and ethnicity play a role in how you feel after you give blood. As it so happens, I myself, have Romanian blood in my veins and a phobia of blood and needles. I also have a habit of going from 9am-3pm without eating, or eating very little. This makes for a killer concoction and a history of passing out cold when getting a needle injected; I have almost fallen off the table at urgent care. So, you can try to understand why I have some reservations about getting my blood taken. The Romanian part is just ironic, as many films, movies, and books have different adaptations and views of what it means to be a vampire (they supposedly come from Transylvania: a location in Romania). I can tell you, from my families verbally passed down history, that Romania is not as it’s depicted in Hollywood, mass media productions, and the news.
My overall point, is how terrified I was to take a fasting blood test. When I tell you I lost sleep over it and had to replan it several times, I am not kidding. I not only had test anxiety, I had medical anxiety. I was worried I would pass out in the chair at the phlebotomy office; thankfully I did not. Although, I did feel very faint and nauseated; my acid reflux began firing away, burning my throat. My stomach turned and turned as I tried to explain to the kind woman taking my blood that “I am ready for this, however I am terrified and dizzy”. She had my back though, 100%. The woman was not only good at her job, but her bedside manner was fantastic. She called me by my first name a lot and distracted me by not talking about the blood. I did a great job not passing out, even after feeling that whoosh of blood literally running through my face and into my arm. I don’t know if it’s paranoid or my hyper awareness, but I am here to tell you that I can feel the blood leaving my body, no matter the trace amounts that are taken. I am not sure, nor have I ever been told (or asked) what blood type I am. I have never been brave enough to donate blood; I am frightened beyond belief to see it stream out like that. I have always been that way, for as long as I can remember; I can remember all the way back to being three years old. I was told that’s a psychological response to trauma, and some of it might be, but I think it’s also part of my personality. It takes a long time to figure that out: “Who am I?”. Since I can remember so far back, I tend to be able to identify what part of my personality I have always had: fear of medical treatments and needles.
The best side of needles that I have ever experienced was when my son was in the hospital; his elbow was swollen with infection and he almost went full septic. Any way, he needed to get his elbow drained with a large gage needle. “Gross!”, would have been my first reaction; but I was so calm, so collected and poised. “Do it” I told them watching, my ears rung but I didn’t pass out or even get dizzy. I knew he needed the treatment and I was humbled and felt blessed that modern medical practice could save him. The University of Michigan Mott’s medical center saved his life. Not only that, their bedside manner was amazing. They have video games, therapy dogs, and an entire room filled with toys. I guess when it comes to my kids I am just far more brave. Maybe it’s the Vampire in me.
-A Manic Monday
**My daughter came into the room and wanted to know how I type so fast on the keyboard, I will tell her that I have been doing it for a very long time. I have been using the computer to express my emotions, write research papers and journal for creative writing class for most of my life. I have been practicing the computer since 1997 when my Uncle gave me and my family our first computer. He made it from parts he had left over at his house. I remember playing early 90’s games on it. This paragraph has shown my daughter the reason I am able to type so fast. She really likes that I explained it to her through typing.**
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