Sunday, February 28, 2010

Blackmail. . .

I am terrified of needles.  It's not just that I simply hate them, the idea of having to get a needle poke keeps me up at night and makes me shake just thinking about having to go through it.  Something about the shuffle of the phlebotomist, opening crunchy plastic packages and moving around in the moments before sticking a needle in my arm.  Ick.

Without fail, I always get through it and say 'oh, that wasn't so bad'.  But that doesn't ever seem to change my perception leading up to it, and this latest turn of events has my trying to learn how to be calm and relaxed about what inevitably will result in not just one, but several pokes.

My husband has blackmailed me.  Knowing full well that I'm so ready to start trying for a baby, and knowing that I so hate going to the doctor, he has told me that we will start trying after I go get (and I quote) 'poked and prodded.'


Yippee that he's come around, and yippee that unless something major is wrong I'll be pregnant before my 30'th birthday (I'm turning 29 in less than a week).  Not so yippee that it's shrouded by the fact that I haven't been to the doctor, dentist, or optometrist in over 14 years.

Yikes.

More than the needle poke (no doubt they will draw blood and check for STD's, cholesterol, and the like), I'm terrified that after such a hiatus from the doctors office they are going to yell at me and then tell me something disastrous.  Maybe I have cancer.  Maybe I have some nasty affliction that could have been treated had I been to the doctor sooner.  Maybe I have endometriosis, PCOS, cysts, tumors, blocked tubes, lumps, bumps, or need an arm cut off.

I know that I need some dental work, but otherwise I feel like I'm perfectly healthy; and that's the hard part of this.  Make no mistake, I realize that childbirth is a painful, difficult, and emotional process.  One might ask how I would be so excited to go through something like that when I can't even bring myself to get a checkup; honestly though, childbirth does not scare me.

Being told that I'm sick beyond repair, or need major, expensive surgery or therapy, scares the living cats out of me.  We'll see what happens.

I'm very excited that we are going to have children, however. . .especially with my best friend being pregnant. I love the idea of having children together who are close to the same age.

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