Scardey Cat Bogan

Today I had to go and be a pin cushion. I had a Glucose Tolerance Test. No big deal, right? We  all have to have them when we are up the duff. Compared to pushing a baby out it's NOTHING.

So why do I get all wobbly about it? Yes, I must confess, I am big chicken shit, scaredy cat when it comes to all things of a medical nature. I do not like blood or needles AT ALL.  The only way I can go about such a thing is to try to pretend it's not happening and look away. But my nerves are far too obvious and I'll usually get a patronising "Oh somebody doesn't like needles, do they?" type of comment from the pathology staffer who is about to jab me with the said needle. The fact that I am, of course, acting like the equivalent of a five year old and probably deserve their derision is entirely irrelevant. And they never give me a smiley stamp afterwards either. Hmph.

This isn't scary at all...*faints*

Hard to believe I spent months being jabbed with fertility drugs years ago and being poked and prodded in my quest to have a baby. I must have wanted sprogs very badly.

All of this leads me to the obvious conclusion that I need to:

a) grow up
b) grow some balls
c) grow some extra balls in case I lose the first ones, or
d) all of the above.

Might be d, I reckon. It's a tough one.

Spending two hours at a pathology place is somewhat depressing. A room full, of disgruntled, bored people, some of whom are ill and/or in wheel chairs. I realise I'm lucky because whatever the result of the test, I'll be able to do something about it. So I know I should get over being a sook and deal with it. Giving up cakies is not a big deal. Frankly, after having that revolting sugary drink they give you as part of the test, I'm not sure I want anything sweet EVER AGAIN. Or at least until tomorrow.

As well as being a big scaredy cat about all things medical, this week I've also been a gigantic sentimental sook. We had to go to Mr 12's High School interview. As we went over our paper work and what we had to take, I suddenly noticed that I still had baby photos of him on the wall. I do tend to procrastinate from updating things around here. And just procrastinate in general. But let's talk about that later. Boom Tish!

 Anyway, he certainly isn't a baby anymore. Realising this, I just lost it and started bawling. Yes, I'm a tad slow at coming to this stunning conclusion. I have to also confess that just as I have a hard time coping with medical issues, I also have a hard time dealing with change. My 'baby' is going to high school, my other 'baby' is starting kindergarten and I am officially middle aged as I begin the slow descent into old age and all the medical things that pop up with it. Possible Type 2 Diabetes. Yay.

All the things that I thought were years off are starting to become a reality. I used to think about Mr 12 going to high school and Micky Blue Eyes turning 50 and they were still far off into the future. Now they are a reality.  Really happening.

It's all good really. I just like getting myself all worked up and worried over nothing for no reason. Like the whole giving up cake thing. Gawd, my life is just FASCINATING. Why don't I just vomit it all over the Internet? Oh wait....

All of this can only lead me to the obvious conclusion that I need to:

a) get a hobby
b) get out more
c) get a life, or
d) all of the above

I think I'm going with option d. So excuse me while I proceed to go and get a life. Or something.

Linking up for I Must Confess, which is being hosted this week by Emily from  Have A Laugh On Me.

                                   Can you tell me where to go to get a life? Or just where to 
                                        go..............                            

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I Must Confess: My Fears & Phobias

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths today for I Must Confess. Today's topic: My Fears and Phobias.

Truthfully we could be here for a while. I have so many phobias and fears. Deep breathe. Here goes.

BLOOD

I am squeamish. Watching RPA or any of those medical type shows where they show surgery is my idea of hell.  I actually had to be cut open when I had Mr4, while awake, but numb from the waist down. I have NO IDEA how I survived the mere thought of it. Or the two previous natural births I went through as well. Basically it was only down to the fact that I simply had no choice at that point.

COCKROACHES

I despise them. And, tragically. fear them. I'm usually so quiet and placid, but any sighting of these vile creatures will have me omitting the most blood-curdling, piercing scream. A scream that would wake the dead. Micky Blue Eyes has often commented that I could be hired for horror movies with that afore mentioned scream.

DENTISTS

The smell. The chair. You sit down. It slowly whirs backwards. The blood rushes to your head. You are TRAPPED. There is no escape from all those sharp metal objects probing inside your mouth. Meanwhile, you are expected to keep your jaw gaping, cavernously open, therefore making any possibility of taking deep, slow, calming breaths, absolutely impossible. Then, as you start to hyperventilate, that ominous hissing noise of the air hose assaults your senses..EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!!!

FLUORESCENT LIGHTS

And anything involving bright shinyness, which I now realise is connected to sensory issues with having Aspergers. This doesn't make it any less scary though.  In particular,when entering Target, I break into a cold sweat. Fluorescent lights bouncing off the white, shiny floors. Their theme song warbling away about being happy is seriously not the case for me. I am not happy at all. Naturally, being a bonafide bogan, Target is as upmarket as I get when shopping, so I am forced to go in there on a regular basis. Hold me.

HEIGHTS

As a girl I was always terrified of stepping onto the escalator at the shops. This fear still hasn't quite left me. It's a heights thing. The further up I am, the more I fear it. Just as well a trip up to the top off the Eiffel Tower is never likely to be on this bogan's horizon.  Ditto, a Harbour Bridge climb is never going to be on my bucket list. It's pretty high up on my fuck it list, as the joke goes, however.


NEEDLES

There was a time when we were having fertility treatments which involved me being jabbed on a daily basis, so you'd think I'd have completely discarded this nasty little phobia. Wrong. The thought of having to have a routine blood test (eeek, two of my phobias at once - blood and needles) has me hiding in a corner in a foetal position.


PUBLIC SPEAKING

Or, you know, any speaking really. I am not a woman of many words.  (Well, except perhaps on this blog, where I seem to have no problem with boring the pants off anyone who doesn't click away. You're welcome.) My aversion to the old verbal diarrhoea becomes even more pronounced when it involves a large group.  Luckily, I have managed to organise my life so that the odds of this happening are largely nil. To do this I simply have no career and minimal human contact. Seems to work.


WATER

As in, putting my whole face underneath it. And no, I can't swim, thanks for asking.  This is why I'm also not fond of boats as they usually are on top of said water.

I'm sure I could think of more fears where these came from, but I'm too jittery presently. I keep having this recurring vision of being in a dentists chair, on a cliff top with water gushing below and cockroaches crawling on me while the dentist tries to give me a needle and...holy shit...I just wrote a horror story! *faints*

What are your fears and phobias? Have you ever managed to overcome any? 

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