Sure...I'd Bleed for You

Yuck.

I hate needles. I especially hate needles that pull fluid out of my body. The ones that squirt something in freak me out a lot less than the ones that involve filling little vials with my precious supply of A negative blood.

Pinching my thigh with the fingers of the arm that is not being assaulted and turning my head to escape the thoughts of squirting blood helps a bit, but my imagination is pretty darn good. It would probably be better if I just watched.

Ewwwww.....

When I was small I was hospitalized on a pretty regular basis for severe childhood asthma. I spent much of my childhood in an oxygen tent and crying about substandard hospital food. Believe me, there is nothing worse than having no appetite and being force fed (this was back in the early 80's when I guess this was still acceptable) dry roast beef and cold mashed potatoes. It makes my eyes water just thinking about it.

Part of that childhood experience involved a lot of blood work. A tech would show up at my bedside first thing in the morning, later in the afternoon, and again in the evening. I am not sure why they required so many vials of blood from me. The frequency of the bloodletting was so often however that at the ripe old age of 6 I learned that the best way to get through it was to have someone hold my arm down so I didn't flinch, (flinching leads to an annoyed tech with more aggressive vein finding techniques) and just pretend that it didn't matter to me.

It has been decades since I spent any significant amounts of time in the hospital. Modern medicine has saved many lives and improved the quality of many others. I am a prime example. However... I am convinced that this early experience has made me more sensitive (to the point of racing heart and sweat) about blood being extracted from my body.

Yuck!!!

Today I rolled up my sleeve and handed my arm over again. This time it wasn't for me. It wasn't because I was sick or needed levels tested. I did it for my husband.

Lately, it seems like I have been witness to several untimely and unfortunate deaths that leave a partner alone and having to go about his/her "normal" life as if nothing had changed. This seems so wrong to me on so many levels. I can't speak for these people, because maybe work is therapeutic for them...but that's not me. I couldn't do it. I would like to be able to take off for a couple years and reevaluate my life I think.

I want my husband to have this same option, so today we applied for life insurance. I have life insurance already. I have a son from a previous marriage and all of that insurance money would go directly to him. If I can't be around to watch him grow into an adult I at least want to pay for his education or part of his house. My husband however, wasn't included. He's a pretty capable guy. He really doesn't need me to take care of him. I never really thought about a policy just for him until recently. I realized that I wanted to make sure he wouldn't have to go directly back to work if I died unexpectedly. I would want to leave him with the opportunity and means to take a 2 or 3 year sabbatical. He's not getting a million dollars or anything...but with an extra couple hundred thousand he should be free to make whatever choices he wants regarding his grieving process.

Now I will have two policies...covering the two most important people in my life. Although it sounds sort of morbid it's good to remember that life insurance is not about death. It is about doing what we can for the living.

It's a good thing I bleed well. My vials only took about 45 seconds to fill. My poor husband however ended up having to be subjected to the tech's digging techniques.....

Ewwwww!!!!

I'm trying not to think about it.

I'm just going to focus on what a little bit of pain endured now could possibly give someone I love later.