Severe Needle Phobia // My First Blood Test
Before I went in for my first blood test, I scoured the internet for posts on needle phobia, hoping to find some sort of support. If you landed here through a similar search, you’ll know that surprisingly, there’s not much out there. Sure, there are plenty of blog posts and YouTube videos where people mention how much they “hate” needles, but I had a really hard time finding anyone who spoke about being so deathly afraid that they just avoided them altogether. To be quite honest, the only people I could ever genuinely relate to were the panicking fourteen year olds down in the comment sections, freaking out about their annual flu shots. But based on my Instagram message inbox, I know there are a lot of us, so to my fellow needle phobic friends, this one’s for you.
The fact that I sit here now, one blood test down (and many more to come), should be a huge indication that this test was necessary, but that didn’t make it any easier. For almost two years straight, I had recurring nightmares about blood tests. And when I wasn’t having nightmares, I was experiencing insomnia due to the massive amount of anxiety I had just thinking about blood tests. At this point, you’re either finally feeling understood or completely confused at the enormity of my fear. Trust me, I don’t wish this phobia on anyone, although I am seriously jealous of anyone whose phobia is elevators or spiders, or anything that doesn’t involve unavoidable physical pain.
In preparation of my appointment, I searched for every possible tip to alleviate discomfort. I’ll list them here as a resource:
Buy numbing cream.
Drink a lot of water beforehand to make it easier for your phlebotomist to find a vein.
Wear warm clothes to improve blood flow.
Use a heating pad on your veins before the appointment to make them pop.
Get yourself Buzzy, a vibrating ice pack that goes on the injection site.
The morning of, I popped a Xanax, covered my inner-elbow with numbing cream, and made sure to pack Buzzy between ice packs in an insulated pouch. My husband drove me to the clinic, but due to Covid-19, he wasn’t allowed to join me in the exam room. Thankfully, he waited right outside with the sweetest handwritten card.
My anxiety was in overdrive when the phlebotomist entered the room and basically skyrocketed when she said, “Let’s start with your blood work. Just have a seat in that chair.” I looked at the chair, then back at her, and completely froze. When she saw I wasn’t sitting, she asked if I was okay, to which I gave my honest answer, “No.” She tried to calm me down, but once I started pacing, she excused herself for a minute. She came back with the nurse dedicated to my case. I had already spoken to my nurse about my phobia, so she immediately went into action, lying me down on the table and giving me an alcohol pad to smell as a distraction. She also held my arm down, at my request, since no amount of willpower would keep me from pulling away.
Here’s how it all went down. Once Buzzy was secured around my left arm, I instinctively used my right hand to cover my eyes. I attempted to think of absolutely anything besides the needle, much to my avail, but as I tried, I felt time start to pass, so I asked, “Is it in? Is it in?” I probably repeated myself ten times before my nurse reassured me it was in and I was doing great. Without warning, that’s precisely the moment my body gave into panic. Clearly the numbing cream did its job since I didn’t feel the puncture, but my phobia wouldn’t let up. My nails involuntarily dug into my nurse’s hand and I squeezed as I freaked out for the next two minutes and eight vials. I sounded like a broken record repeating the same line, “Is it over? Is it over? Is it over?” until finally, it was.
I’m not sure how long the entire experience lasted. I can tell you that it felt like forever, but as soon as it was over, I felt the weight of the world lift off me, and I can happily announce that I haven’t had a nightmare in a full week, even though I already have my second blood test scheduled. Best of all, in all my apprehension, I realized I forgot to turn Buzzy on! No wonder my phlebotomist kept asking what the plastic bumble bee contraption on my arm did. Ha.
The staff decided to let my husband in immediately after to console his traumatized wife, which made me seriously question the “spouses ban,” but it was amazing to be reunited and he never looked prouder. High fives all around.
I can’t imagine my phobia going away anytime soon and I have no doubt my anxiety will soar the second I’m back in that office, but I promise you this, if I could do it, so can you.
xx Esther
*These posts do not reflect my current situation as they were written in the moment.
Still waiting on our miracle, but sharing now to help others feel less alone.
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