Phobias
What gives you the heebie-jeebies?
It's a bit strong to call this a phobia, but for me it's the thought of biting into a dry flannel. I've no idea why I'd ever want to or even get the opportunity to do so, seeing as I don't own one, but it makes my teeth hurt to think about it. *ewww*
Tell us what innocent things make you go pale, wobbly and send shivers down your spine.
( , Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:34)
What gives you the heebie-jeebies?
It's a bit strong to call this a phobia, but for me it's the thought of biting into a dry flannel. I've no idea why I'd ever want to or even get the opportunity to do so, seeing as I don't own one, but it makes my teeth hurt to think about it. *ewww*
Tell us what innocent things make you go pale, wobbly and send shivers down your spine.
( , Thu 10 Apr 2008, 13:34)
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Needles
Erm, more specifically procedures that involve needles and veins. Piercings are fine. Tattoos, no problem. Shots I can handle.
Drawing blood, IVs, shooting heroin? I think I’m gonna faint…
Also, the talk of medical procedures makes me woozy.
I fainted three times in school… Once because the teacher went into the gory detail of the days of old when a person infected with rabies would have to get a series of 13 shots in the abdomen. I know, I just said shots don’t bother me, but he was talking about huge long needles and … hold on, I need to compose myself. I also fainted during a nice lecture over some type of surgery to remove something, the details are hazy. The last time I fainted in school was when a boy behind me did something with his hand to make the veins pop up. *wipes sweat from brow*
I should mention when I faint I don’t just put a limp hand to my forehead and gently fall backwards with a small sigh, like a Disney Princess. No. I start to get sweaty and drool, pass the fuck out, crumple to the ground like a sack of lead potatoes, then go into a seizure. THAT’S how bad needles scare me.
In the past 26 years, I only know of 2 times doctors have been able to successfully draw my blood. If it’s happened more than that, it was when I was too young to have memory. Those two times I was heavily sedated. All other times they attempted to take blood I ended up sprawled on the cold tile floor, flopping around, and waking up in a puddle of sweat and drool with a popsicle (ice lollie to you guys) stick jammed in my mouth… to keep me from swallowing my tongue.
There was that one time I went to ER with a friend who was having a heart attack... when he got there his vitals dropped and all sorts of buzzers and alarms went off and a swarm of nurses appeared ... then from fucking NOWHERE one of them stabs in a line for an IV. I ended up fainting on the ER floor and had a whole nurse swam to myself.
Now for the story that tops them all... One night I went out to the local gay club with my friends of the fairy persuasion. I should mention that night the local drag queens decided to put on their own little production of Moulin Rouge. So there I was, happily sitting at table stage right, sipping fruity drinks, and enjoying the lispy redemption of a tale about the oldest profession.
During the intermission (see readjusting fake breasts, making sure all penis was tucked away, and allowing the audience to go out on the dance floor and prance around) one of the people at my table went into gory detail of (THOSE WHO ARE SQUEMISH LOOK AWAY) removing a hangnail. Since I had drank quite a few, I felt I could bear with this… as normally that would be my cue to run far, far away.
Just after the harrowing tale of blood, puss, and *gag* irrigation the lights went down the curtains went up for the grand finale. I mumbled something about not feeling well and thought laying my head on the table would help… The last thing I remember is hearing the music distort in that comical way that sounds like the record was slowing down making the voices get lower… Voulez vous coucher mmmoooooiiiii cceeeeee sssssssssoooooooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr *fade to black* next thing I know I’m surrounded by three drag queens yelling “Call 911!” and two butch lesbians with crew cuts asking me if I knew my name, address, and phone number. I pretty sure my phone number wasn’t needed and they were taking advantage of me. Cue the arrival of two fire engines, three ambulances, and a whole brigade of paramedics flooding into the bar, while the drag queens were screaming “OVER HERE!! OVER HERE!!”.
That’s pretty where the excitement ends, as all they did was take my blood pressure and prick my finger to make sure my blood sugar levels were normal. I told them I normally faint when I hear about gross things… they left before getting mauled by the queens who just love a man in uniform.
Apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes. I really can’t stomach rereading any of that.
I also find I'm scared of people speaking French after that episode.
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 1:47, 1 reply)
Erm, more specifically procedures that involve needles and veins. Piercings are fine. Tattoos, no problem. Shots I can handle.
Drawing blood, IVs, shooting heroin? I think I’m gonna faint…
Also, the talk of medical procedures makes me woozy.
I fainted three times in school… Once because the teacher went into the gory detail of the days of old when a person infected with rabies would have to get a series of 13 shots in the abdomen. I know, I just said shots don’t bother me, but he was talking about huge long needles and … hold on, I need to compose myself. I also fainted during a nice lecture over some type of surgery to remove something, the details are hazy. The last time I fainted in school was when a boy behind me did something with his hand to make the veins pop up. *wipes sweat from brow*
I should mention when I faint I don’t just put a limp hand to my forehead and gently fall backwards with a small sigh, like a Disney Princess. No. I start to get sweaty and drool, pass the fuck out, crumple to the ground like a sack of lead potatoes, then go into a seizure. THAT’S how bad needles scare me.
In the past 26 years, I only know of 2 times doctors have been able to successfully draw my blood. If it’s happened more than that, it was when I was too young to have memory. Those two times I was heavily sedated. All other times they attempted to take blood I ended up sprawled on the cold tile floor, flopping around, and waking up in a puddle of sweat and drool with a popsicle (ice lollie to you guys) stick jammed in my mouth… to keep me from swallowing my tongue.
There was that one time I went to ER with a friend who was having a heart attack... when he got there his vitals dropped and all sorts of buzzers and alarms went off and a swarm of nurses appeared ... then from fucking NOWHERE one of them stabs in a line for an IV. I ended up fainting on the ER floor and had a whole nurse swam to myself.
Now for the story that tops them all... One night I went out to the local gay club with my friends of the fairy persuasion. I should mention that night the local drag queens decided to put on their own little production of Moulin Rouge. So there I was, happily sitting at table stage right, sipping fruity drinks, and enjoying the lispy redemption of a tale about the oldest profession.
During the intermission (see readjusting fake breasts, making sure all penis was tucked away, and allowing the audience to go out on the dance floor and prance around) one of the people at my table went into gory detail of (THOSE WHO ARE SQUEMISH LOOK AWAY) removing a hangnail. Since I had drank quite a few, I felt I could bear with this… as normally that would be my cue to run far, far away.
Just after the harrowing tale of blood, puss, and *gag* irrigation the lights went down the curtains went up for the grand finale. I mumbled something about not feeling well and thought laying my head on the table would help… The last thing I remember is hearing the music distort in that comical way that sounds like the record was slowing down making the voices get lower… Voulez vous coucher mmmoooooiiiii cceeeeee sssssssssoooooooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr *fade to black* next thing I know I’m surrounded by three drag queens yelling “Call 911!” and two butch lesbians with crew cuts asking me if I knew my name, address, and phone number. I pretty sure my phone number wasn’t needed and they were taking advantage of me. Cue the arrival of two fire engines, three ambulances, and a whole brigade of paramedics flooding into the bar, while the drag queens were screaming “OVER HERE!! OVER HERE!!”.
That’s pretty where the excitement ends, as all they did was take my blood pressure and prick my finger to make sure my blood sugar levels were normal. I told them I normally faint when I hear about gross things… they left before getting mauled by the queens who just love a man in uniform.
Apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes. I really can’t stomach rereading any of that.
I also find I'm scared of people speaking French after that episode.
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 1:47, 1 reply)
Veins!
Argh!
The bit from Nightmare on Elm Street 3 still haunts me.
I can't stand the thought of them!
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 3:24, closed)
Argh!
The bit from Nightmare on Elm Street 3 still haunts me.
I can't stand the thought of them!
( , Tue 15 Apr 2008, 3:24, closed)
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