Yesterday, I stopped in at the mobile blood bank in our area and signed up. Went through the paper work and the quick finger prick (that actually stung a lot) and was seated in one of the chairs ready for my big... huge and sharp needle to be shoved in... when I freaked. I was a mess. There were tears.
The nurses were absolutely lovely.
But I kind of wished that they hadn’t given me the chance to say no. As one was holding me down the other should’ve just stabbed me. Then again, that may be more traumatic and I could’ve sued afterwards or be even worse with needles.
Not going through with it has made me feel like crap. I am healthy and willing but my body just reacts in a way that means I can’t do it. I feel a little betrayed by my body. A lot, actually. I hate feeling helpless and having no control over my fear.