A phobia of my own

Here's a little something about me:  I cannot stand the sight of my own blood.  I'm not sure when it all started; perhaps I had always been like this.  The very first time I knew that I was averse to seeing my own blood was when I was a freshman in college.  There was a blood drive on campus, and I thought I would help save lives and donate blood.  It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, but I don't remember feeling nervous or stressed about it.  I filled out the form, and one of the blood drive staff members pricked my finger to get a drop.  It was fine until I was actually up on the gurney.  I watched, first with fascination, as the collection needle was inserted in my arm.  Then I watched all this dark blood collect in the bag.  It was the color of chili powder.  That's when I started feeling strange.  My breathing got shallow and rapid, and when the collection bag was full, the needle was removed, and I was told to sit up, but then I swooned, and the next thing I remember was the smell of ammonia and people standing over me with concern.  I was allowed to rest for 30 minutes, and afterwards, I had a doughnut and some Sprite.

About a decade later, during my stint as a Children's Librarian, I was at work prepping the storytime craft activity.  I was using the paper-cutter / guillotine and somehow nicked a bit off of skin off of my thumb.  Blood everywhere, and I did my best to cover it quick with a paper towel and hold my thumb above my head.  My thumb was throbbing and again, rapid and shallow breathing.  It felt like I couldn't get enough air.  It eventually stopped bleeding, but I was a wreck for most of the day.  I'm amazed I could even do storytime that day.

Fast forward to today.  Because of my thyroid issues, I periodically need to get my blood drawn and analysed.  This time, in addition to seeing if my medication was at the correct dosage, my doctor also wanted to check my cholesterol and blood sugar levels, so the lab would need a little more blood than usual.  I didn't think it'd be a problem--most of the time when I get my blood drawn at the lab, there is some minor discomfort, but I'd never done anything like pass out, like I did when I donated blood.  Today I went to the lab, and a phlebotomist whom I had never seen before serviced me.  I told her that I have tricky veins, so I asked if she could use the 'butterfly' needle.  She told me that it wasn't necessary.  She tied the elastic on my arm, and instructed me to make a fist.  I could tell that she couldn't see my vein.  But she pricked my arm anyway.  Nothing.  She told me to relax and then to make a fist again.  Once again, nothing.  And then one more time.  This time, the needle hit something, and it hurt like way more than usual.  I held my breath, which I know I wasn't supposed to do and I had to consciously tell myself to breathe.  The phlebotomist asked me if I was OK.  What I should have said was that "No, I'm pretty far from OK." but instead, I did the passive Asian thing I always do and said, "I'm OK, it just stings a little."  Her response was to shrug and say, "It's because the needle just hit the side of your vein.  I'll move it forward a little."  More pain.

It seemed to take forever, what should have been a routine collection of a few vials of blood.  And my poor arm...it is really bruised up, and it hurts.  If she had just used that flexible butterfly needle like I requested!  I'm dreading the next lab appointment and I will run for dear life before I let that particular phlebotomist work on me again.

I'm not afraid of needles.  I don't mind horror movies, and blood on other people.  It's just my own blood that I can't stomach.  I have one other phobia, but I'll write about that some other day.  Do you have any phobias or things that you are averse to?