My Red Badge of Courage

This weekend I (Travis) voluntarily faced a life-long fear of donating blood. While many may think this is nothing to shout about, I respectfully disagree. This fear actually surfaced while serving a two-year mission for the LDS church in Panama. It was required by law for long-term visitors to have blood tests done upon arrival and each year thereafter if you wished to extend your stay. I was serving in Changuinola, an area largely populated by the banana farmers. As I recall, the method by which the person drew my blood was not the typical method. Instead of filling small viles he filled one large syringe and, curios as I was, I had to look to see how much he had drawn. I remember thinking to myself, 'Wow, that's a lot of blood. He took that all from little ol' me?' Soon after that thought I began to feel sick to my stomach and dizzy. I looked across the room at my companion, Elder Roberts, and said, "Compa, no me siento bien (Comp, I don't feel well)" And then the lights went out, i.e. my lights went out.

This story would probably be inconsequential if it didn't happen a second time a year later doing the same thing, and almost again while in college watching a rat get a catheter stuck into its jugular vein (I had to put my head below my knees), and again while watching Krista get an I.V. placed before giving birth to Brooklyn.
I have recently made an effort to overcome this phobia primarily because of my interest in pursuing a career in medicine. Fortunately for me, God has been on my side (whether I knew it or not). The thought occurred to me not too long ago that if I am ever to overcome this fear I must face it. It actually came in a wake of frustration after shadowing Dave, a well-respected anesthsiologist at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. It was my first day with him and he left me with a team of doctors to watch an ultrasound guided nerve block. The doctors were huddled around the patient making it impossible to actually see what was going on but I could see the monitor with the image from the ultrasound and since they were training residents, the attending physician was explaining everything. That's all it took to trigger the all-too-familiar sympathetic responses I had felt in times past: sick stomach, dry mouth, sweating, and probably a pale face (I obviously couldn't see that). I tried not to think about it by distracting myself with multiple visits to the drinking fountain and looking out in the hall as if I was waiting for someone. I saw a resident, who also happens to attend church with me, and went to talk to him and sit down as I gathered my strength. Soon thereafter, Dave returned and we were on our way to look at the case he would be on for the day. The rest of that morning I felt rather weak. I left the hospital that day extremely frustrated. I seriously questioned my capacity to become a physician. Why would I have this weakness if, as far as I was concerned, this is what I am supposed to do. So, instead of letting my weakness get the best of me I determined to face it. I began by obsessively watching videos on You Tube of an array of anesthesiology procedures, especially those that involved big needles going into big veins. I thought it would be easy watching just videos but there were a few instances I had to turn away or turn it off. Eventually, I was able to handle all the medical procedure videos I could find. The following week at the hospital was better but not perfect. I continued watching videos on You Tube. The third week was nearly perfect and I was extremely satisfied with myself. I would say I left that day with newfound hope. I was VERY happy. Ever since that third week I have not had any problems. Success? I thought so.
My confidence was soon put to the test. Last week in church a sign-up sheet was going around for donating blood the following Saturday. Oh how I wanted to make up an excuse, I had a whole book full of them. Krista has constantly encouraged me to do this and I knew that I must if I were to really prove myself. So I signed up not really knowing if I would actually follow through. Saturday morning came and although I didn't feel nervous I didn't want to talk about it in hopes that Krista had forgotten. For some reason I thought if she forgets then my chances of not doing it are increased. Eventually she casually mentioned it and I said, "Yes, I am going." In the words of Paul Harvey "Now you know the rest of the story."

To close this entry I share this scriptural thought from the Book of Mormon:

"And if men come unto me (Jesus Christ) I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. -Ether 12:27


I believe weaknesses are given not only to provide for learning and growth but, as in my case, to measure one's desire; not so much for anyone else's validation but my own.