needles

yesterday i added a new item to my list of pet peeves. i walked into the doctor's office expecting her to fill out a very simple form (or so i thought) and then she goes and tells me, u're gonna need some bloodwork done. within seconds, i was whisked across the hall and into a chair and before i knew it, my blood was being taken.

i'm not terrified of needles, btw... which is besides the point. the ordeal is psychological for the most part, and that's where my peeve lies. i'm sure there's more pain in walking around all day in 3-inch heels than being poked with a needle (and all the ladies can attest to this one!), but there's something about self-inflicted pain that allows my mind and body to accept it and cope with it. again, not that needles are so painful, but it's someone else stabbing me with a sharp object, for goodness sake... i feel violated!! unless, of course, i'm given some time for mental preparation, in which case i'm able to give them permission in my mind to poke me. then it's like i'm letting them take my blood. there's consent being given, even if only in my mind.

when i was young, i used to try to put my hand on the doctor's so that it seemed like i was giving myself the shot, or at least allowing them to give it to me instead of having it forced upon me. i hated it when they made me look away... as though it would ease the whole process... stupid people, assuming they knew how my mind worked... u see, by looking at where they injected me, i could see exactly what they were doing, and in knowing what was going on, my consent could be fully realized. imagine not being allowed to witness what i gave them permission to do... what kind of permission is that? how true of a consent is it when i'm being prevented from seeing what it was i consented them to do? (my mind really did work this way as a child...)