On Victory

Thursday morning I wrote about a particularly fun combination: an intense needle phobia, and a procedure involving an IV scheduled for 7:30 that night.

So yeah, how did that go down?

The morning wasn’t so bad. Work was busy, so a steady barrage of phone calls and e-mails kept my mind off it. Mostly.

Afternoon was worse. I wavered on my commitment to get it done, and had to talk myself out of canceling for the second time that day. I couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing. The IV was a suffocating cloud, poisoning every thought, making it hard to breathe. I left work early, around 2:00, saying (with perfect honesty) that I felt nauseous and needed to lie down.

Things got better after that. I fired up TED.com and watched a few videos, including the ones I linked to on Friday. These were interesting, funny, and genuinely inspiring. They helped dispel the cloud.

Around 6:30 I practiced karate for ten minutes, which helped even more. (I continue to be amazed at the dramatic effect of physical exercise on my mood.) After that I did Zen meditation in the basement for another ten minutes, and managed to concentrate remarkably well, all things considered.

And then it was time.

I drove to the hospital, checked in with the receptionist, waited in the waiting room. I distracted myself by reading a magazine and walking around. After another ten minutes, the nurse came and got me.

I had a plan, and I followed it. I told her about my phobia; she was very kind and understanding through the whole procedure. I tried to sound cheerful (fake it till you make it!) and I think I succeeded. I lay down on the bed and carefully avoided looking at the needle as it went into my right arm. And for the next ten minutes, as the needle stayed in, I hummed Canon in D out loud, in one fast, continuous loop, focusing on nothing else. If my concentration ever wavered, I started to feel sick again, but I didn’t let that happen very often.

It worked.

I never got any more nauseous during the procedure than I had earlier in the day. I never got spots across my vision, as I have during other procedures. And for whatever reason, I barely even felt the liquid dye going into my arm.

And then it was over.

Demonstrating my right to bare arms.

I walked around the parking lot, giving myself a few minutes to make sure I wasn’t going to black out before I got in the car. I was ecstatic. I literally laughed out loud. I felt like, if I could do this, I could do anything. Victory.

It’s remarkable how fast that feeling wears off.

Looking back now, less than four days later, already the victory feels inevitable, unremarkable. I was fine, it was no big deal. Life goes on. It’s so easy to think this way.

But Thursday morning I was terrified, and I did it anyway. And I’m pretty damn proud of that.

The whole experience also gave me a very strong incentive to start up again with the phobia desensitization. I’ve moved on from photos, and now, every day, I’m watching actual videos of people giving blood. It’s hard, but it’s getting easier. I’m going to beat this thing.

Anyway – life does go on. How was your weekend?

9 responses to “On Victory

  1. I wrecked my bicycle! lol yay! so not quite as dramatic as I’ve been sitting on the couch all weekend recuperating from that. I have a new nickname, HamburgerLEG! I’m a batman villain now.

  2. I had a lucid dream 🙂 I got too excited to do much other than figure out it was a dream, but as I’m writing this I’m grinning from ear to ear. It was so freakin’ cool! Even though I’ve had lucid dreams before reading what you wrote last week, this was just so much more awesome because I was thinking about it. I was putting effort into it!

    Also, I have a bit of a question/request. I want to know how, when you write a sonnet, you go about it. What is your procedure, or does it vary from sonnet to sonnet? Do you write it start to finish, or the ending first? Do you plan out every line or does it just come as you write it?

    I’ve been writing a few of my own, and I’m curious about how others, particularly such talented writers as yourself, write, and whether or not the way that you write them in affects the quality of the outcome. Basically, might using a different method make my sonnets better? Or is experience now the only way I can better my sonnets? (In which case… *cringe*)

    • Hey Evlora!

      Congrats on the lucid dream. 🙂 Most people rarely or never have them, so consider yourself lucky! If you do get to the point where you’re controlling them and doing stuff with them, I’d love to hear more.

      About the sonnets, there are definitely specific actions you can take to make a sonnet better. Sounds like a good idea for a post. I’ll see if I can put something together in the next week or so…

      Thanks for commenting!

  3. Lol nothing particularly exciting. Almost finished the 4th draft of lightbearer, played a bit of black ops, read a lot, and researched norse mythology. An average weekend, all in all.
    Glad to hear you got through the I.V. all right.
    About the ‘fake it till you make it,’ I found that interesting. And true. It works particularly well with math tests, on complex formulas where your head starts to spin. You just pretend that you know what you’re doing and start writing down answers, and half the time you end up with the right answer. (Turns out you know more about math than you think you do . . .)
    Thanks for posting!

    • It’s amazing the kinds of formulas you can derive during a test, isn’t it? I once had a math professor who said you can’t think during a test, it’s totally impossible, you can only summon what you’ve already learned. Thank goodness that was a lie!

      Good luck with your draft.

  4. Mind over matter!! After you were all done, you probably thought “hey that wasnt so bad”, right? So why get worked up on the first place? It’s not like it was open heart surgery or anything!

    You have nothing to fear, but fear itself!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.