Last week I bit down on a date seed and part of a molar sheared off. I, who go to great lengths to avoid doctors of any kind, had to go to the dentist to get it repaired. The nerve was pinging.
A very nice Indian? woman called coincidentally, Keziah, was my dentist. I felt I was doing okay but did warn her that I had a 'thing with needles'. Bear in mind that I haven't had an injection of any sort for at least 15, maybe 20 years.
It didn't hurt much. She had to inject several sites around the tooth. Nevertheless, I was gutted by my reaction. Tears continuously seeped from my eyes, I felt dizzy and if the chair hadn't been tilted so far back that my head was below my hips, I may have fainted. I couldn't speak. When it was over and the technician indicated that I could rinse out my mouth, my hand shook so much I could hardly pick up the cup
I was ashamed and embarrassed. I will be 60 next month. Why do I have such an infantile reaction to needles? And why is it worse now than ever? (The same reaction goes for gynecological exams. The last one, over 20 years ago, traumatized me so much that I have not had another).
Thank god, Thank God! for Google! Just typed in needle injection phobia (http://www.needlephobia.com/) and found I am not an immature freak. I haven't finished reading it yet because I am crying, partly in recognition, partly in relief, and partly because I can forgive myself.
It seems I have two types of needle phobias.
The first type is..." the vasovagal reflex reaction. In ordinary language, they faint (or nearly faint) and occasionally go into convulsions
before, during or after a needle procedure. It is a part of what is
known as blood-injury-injection phobia. This is a purely biological
reaction, probably genetic, and is completely distinct from all other
kinds of phobia. It is usually triggered, initially at least, by the
sensation (which is not necessarily painful) of a needle entering the
body. (That's what I told the dentist, when I could speak again. It wasn't the pain, it was being punctured).
2. The second type of needle phobia is the classic phobia.
This results from a early traumatic experience during a medical needle
procedure. In the case of needle phobia, it is usually a medical event
that occurs between the ages of roughly 3 and 6 years. Due to the
carelessness and general thoughtlessness of medical professionals toward
young children, this type of needle phobic has recently been rising at
an astronomical rate. It has overtaken the first type in number of
cases, and it now far exceeds vasovagal needle phobia. The recent
explosion in the percentage of the population with this type of needle
phobia, as documented in a number of medical studies, is an indication
that the medical profession is doing something very wrong in the way
that it deals with young children, and that this situation has gotten
considerably worse in recent years.
3. There is a sub-type of the "classic phobia" that some people have
separated out as a separate type. That is the combative/resistive type
of needle phobia. Some otherwise tranquil people can become quite
combative with medical personnel when facing a needle procedure. This
probably results from the all-too-common practice of one or more large
adults holding down a small child, often using great force, during
needle procedures in childhood."
I don't have the third sub-type of the classic phobia as I don't become violent but I remember clearly, on more than one occasion, trying to outrun teachers and nurses, being cornered and forcibly given an injection when I was a child, the last instance was when I was in 5th grade. My reputation was such that I was always left until last and all the other children were out of the room.
I think I ran and fought because I always fainted and losing consciousness and the sensations experienced prior to losing consciousness were so frightening. That poor little girl. And I was always made to feel ashamed and BAD because of hating injections so much.
Interestingly, "Vasovagal needle phobia is a genetic trait that had survival value for humans prior to the 20th century.
Before modern medicine, an individual with an inordinate fear of being
stuck with a fang, a thorn or a knife was less likely to die in
accidents or in encounters with hostile animals or men. Prior to the
20th century, even an otherwise non-fatal puncture wound had a
reasonable chance of causing a fatal infection. This trait that had positive survival value prior to the 20th century now has a negative survival value since it shuts its victims off from many of the benefits of 21st-century medicine."
Hence, my choice of words, 'being punctured'. Having the protective layer, my skin, breached. It is such a strong image, keeping my skin inviolate and now I begin to understand why. So I could ask for: topical anesthesia... to totally eliminate the sensation of
being stuck by a needle. It is necessary to temporarily block the
site of the needle procedure from sending the needle puncture signals to
the brain."
One strategy I employed when I had to have a needle before I could travel to PNG was to pay for the injection first, get all the paperwork out of the way, and warn the staff that after the injection I would be sprinting out of the building. I got the shot in the fat pad above my hip, pulled my shorts over the site and bolted. This was in Cairns. I power walked until I knew I would not faint. It took a while.
Part of the shame of fainting is wetting myself while unconscious and when I wake up having to go to the toilet NOW. For a number two. It seems part and parcel of the same thing I notice when my horse Balthazar is upset. When he's anxious he poops and keeps pooping until there's nothing left to poop. Does he do this so he can run? Is it the same reason for me? I may have a veneer of civilization sitting atop this mammalian/reptilian brain but I'm still just a critter in the hostile jungle at heart.
I also have a phobia about gynecological examinations, hearing or reading about detailed women 'stuff' so much so that when i googled the site - and there is one, I couldn't read it.
Another day, another blog.
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