Seriously God, I'm the girl who ran away from the doctor's office when I was little!

On Saturday John and I had our medical checkups for the homestudy paperwork. We went to United (nice, western hospital). We had to have our blood taken for all kinds of tests including fasting blood sugar, so we hadn't eaten since the night before. I got my blood taken at around 11:30. Forgot to mention that I have passed out several times when my blood is drawn. Should have told the nurse. I went from sitting upright in the chair to the next thing I knew, lying on the floor looking up at the nurse and doctor saying "Are you OK?, Are you OK?" Grrr. Did it again...low blood pressure. It took a while for me to get feeling better--tried apple/orange juice, food right away...threw it all up. Spent a good part of the morning on the examination table! In the end, I was fine, but the incident got me thinking about my medical phobias.

I think I have always thought the phobias are in my head. I thought I would try to be brave and not think about the blood draw this time, and I didn't think about it...but I still ended up on the floor. The doctor explained what happens with low blood pressure, and I got told off for not telling them I needed to lie down. I guess, now I know. Still, there are so many other aspects of the medical world that make me just want to run straight out of the doctor's office, out the door, and down the street. (Come to think of it, didn't I do that once?!) I HATE NEEDLES! So....God, why do you want me to do this again? Why are you calling ME to pursue this way to have children that involves needles everyday for a two-month period, poking, prodding, and lots of doctor's offices? It doesn't make sense.

Maybe that's exactly why it is my calling.