A fear turned strength
Forgive the rather disturbing photo if you’re not into needles and blood. But this has got to be one of the things I feel strongly about.
If you were to ask 10 year old me to donate blood or even just to visit the paediatrician for the usual vaccinations, I would’ve thrown a fit. No seriously. I hated needles and the thought of one puncturing my skin not only made me cringe but made me burst out into tears as well.
I recall being confined in the hospital when I was still in grade school. My parents left and promised to be back in 2 hours and assured me that nothing wrong would ever come to me while they were away, and I believed them. I was doing pretty fine on my own, minding my own business with my nose buried in the pages of my Archie comic books, when all of a sudden a nurse walks in with a ready injection in hand. I basically caused a ruckus which involved appearances of even more nurses and doctors all trying to calm me down while I was standing on my bed, crying – rather hysterically might I add– , and shouting for my parents. Yup, definitely a memory I’ll never forget.
Fast forward to more than a decade after and here I am: a loyal O+ blood donor.
I’m not entirely sure what it is exactly that led me to my first donation last 2010. Maybe I just wanted to prove something to myself, or maybe I just wanted to make myself feel better – I was, after all, saving someone else’s life. Oh well, whatever it was that sparked my interest into giving blood, I’m grateful for it.
Not only was I able to overcome a fear, but I got to help other people in the process. :)