Trypanophobia
Trypanophobia is the extreme fear of needles. I am referring to the injection and blood drawing needles, not the knitting needles. I like knitting needles, but those other needles...not so much. There are a lot of reasons for my fear, but I think the primary reason goes back to my childhood.
I have written here about my mother the medical doctor. For whatever reason, probably for the sake of convenience, my mother acted as our family doctor. This included giving us all of our immunizations. I did not do well with that. I have a very vivid memory of my mother dragging me out from under the bed where I was trying to escape. She had my ankle in one hand and the needle in the other. Ugh.
My mother was often on the telephone. We had phones all over the house to enable her to answer quickly one emergency after another. One time, she was in the middle of her office hours (her office was in our home). She was rushing from the living room back toward her office when the phone rang. As I watched, she hurried to pick up the phone with one hand and somehow jabbed her other hand with the needle she was holding. Just thinking about it makes me woozy. Blech.
Over the years and my various medical adventures, I have met good and bad responses to my phobia. Some doctors and nurses are understanding and patient. Some are not accustomed to dealing with my brand of crazy. Recently I had to have an IV in preparation for a medical procedure. I explained, as I always do, to the nurse/technician/whatever he was, that I do not do well with needles, and that I would be looking away while he inserted the IV. He said, "OK," then got the IV going somehow. Sadly (for me), the next thing he said was, "It popped out." It popped out. When I awoke (and I was REALLY out, in a deep sleep of a dream about Moses and Noah and the Ark), I was surrounded by many white- jacketed folks. They all agreed that I didn't need that IV after all.
I hate needles so much that I always begged my medical providers, including my dentist, to proceed with my care without anesthesia. Some of them tried it, sometimes it worked. My childhood dentist went along for a while until my screaming got to him. His exact words were, "God damn, it, Vicky!!!" From then on, he would not treat me unless I got the Novocaine.
In an ill-conceived plan, I decided to cure my phobia by giving blood. That adventure ended with the nurse advising me that it would be in everyone's best interest if I served my community in another way. It seems that having all the staff attending to my hysteria wasn't helpful for them or beneficial to other donors.
I know these damned implements are a medical necessity, but I don't have to like them.
I have written here about my mother the medical doctor. For whatever reason, probably for the sake of convenience, my mother acted as our family doctor. This included giving us all of our immunizations. I did not do well with that. I have a very vivid memory of my mother dragging me out from under the bed where I was trying to escape. She had my ankle in one hand and the needle in the other. Ugh.
My mother was often on the telephone. We had phones all over the house to enable her to answer quickly one emergency after another. One time, she was in the middle of her office hours (her office was in our home). She was rushing from the living room back toward her office when the phone rang. As I watched, she hurried to pick up the phone with one hand and somehow jabbed her other hand with the needle she was holding. Just thinking about it makes me woozy. Blech.
Over the years and my various medical adventures, I have met good and bad responses to my phobia. Some doctors and nurses are understanding and patient. Some are not accustomed to dealing with my brand of crazy. Recently I had to have an IV in preparation for a medical procedure. I explained, as I always do, to the nurse/technician/whatever he was, that I do not do well with needles, and that I would be looking away while he inserted the IV. He said, "OK," then got the IV going somehow. Sadly (for me), the next thing he said was, "It popped out." It popped out. When I awoke (and I was REALLY out, in a deep sleep of a dream about Moses and Noah and the Ark), I was surrounded by many white- jacketed folks. They all agreed that I didn't need that IV after all.
I hate needles so much that I always begged my medical providers, including my dentist, to proceed with my care without anesthesia. Some of them tried it, sometimes it worked. My childhood dentist went along for a while until my screaming got to him. His exact words were, "God damn, it, Vicky!!!" From then on, he would not treat me unless I got the Novocaine.
In an ill-conceived plan, I decided to cure my phobia by giving blood. That adventure ended with the nurse advising me that it would be in everyone's best interest if I served my community in another way. It seems that having all the staff attending to my hysteria wasn't helpful for them or beneficial to other donors.
I know these damned implements are a medical necessity, but I don't have to like them.
You may want to grab a wad of tissues before you read this comment!
ReplyDeleteEvery month I get two injections, one in EACH EYE to slow down the progression of macular degeneration. Yes, I kid you not - Injections, or eventual blindness!
This week I changed to a different ophthalmologist because of insurance issues, and he added to the pain, the insertion of a needle on my arm to flood my body with yellow dye so he could SEE how the blood vessels were responding before the eye injection.
(VIctoria, if you are still reading, I HOPE you feel SORRY for me!)
And thank you for adding to my vocabulary the exquisite word "trypanophobia," for which I was notably ignorant.
Take over the counter PreserVision (vits. A and D) to perhaps avoid the sharp-poke-in-the-eye issues to begin with. Check with Doc first, of course. %-}
Dear Marian,
DeleteI cannot imagine enduring that! I do feel sorry for you. My dear mother-in-law had that same condition and treatment. Whenever anyone asked her how she could manage getting those injections, she replied that it was better than going blind. I'm sure that is true!!!
Thank you for sharing your experience; I'm so sorry you're going through all of this (especially the new yellow dye injection!!!), but we're fortunate that we have the medical advances that enable treatment of these conditions. I had my
I appreciate your comments, as always! You are my blogging heroine!!!
Tee hee! - The "blogging heroine," not the injection.
DeleteYou may have noticed I've taken a 3-week hiatus . . . done me good, though . . . now refreshed enough to carry on! <3
Marian, I did notice that you took some time away. Good for you. When I start thinking of blogging as something I MUST DO, rather than something I am excited about doing, then I know it's time to take a break. Good to see you back! Happy Monday!
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