Disclaimer- Some parts of this post may be gross- stop here if you don't like gross. I am not kidding.
AND
I AM NOT ALONE? Oh my good gosh Miss Molly- I am stunned. Vindicated,
amused and horrified- all in the same breath. After years of being
perplexed and aggravated, ashamed and weird, the light has been turned
on and I am no longer alone in the darkness. I am-are you ready for
it-drum roll- an Emetophobe. I have Emetophobia. There I said it- I am
out of the closet- or bathroom as may be more apropos. For those of
you who have no clue what I am talking about, here is wonderful wikki's
definition of my malady. Pay special attention to the last sentence-
Emetophobia (from the Greek εμετός, to vomit, and φόβος (phóbos), meaning "fear") is an intense, irrational fear or anxiety pertaining to vomiting. This specific phobia
can also include subcategories of what causes the anxiety, including a
fear of vomiting in public, a fear of seeing vomit, a fear of watching
the action of vomiting or fear of being nauseated.[1] Emetophobia is clinically considered an “elusive predicament” because limited research has been done pertaining to it.[2] It is considered to be one of the most common phobias in the world.[3]
For clarification, I think I fall into a sub category. Fear of watching and or hearing the act of said chunk blowing. I don't particularly love being sick myself but I don't freak out about it. I wouldn't want to throw up in front of people either- I have done that once, when I was pregnant- couldn't be helped- but it was Stewart and nothing seems to bother him. He was raised on a farm- nuf said.
One of the most common phobias in the WORLD! Well isn't that
special. I was reading a fellow Emetophobes blog today (quite by
accident) and something he said pricked my interest- He said when ever
his kids say "I have a stomach ache", he goes into fits of anxiety. I
mused to myself, "hhmmm, that sounds vaguely familiar."
I have always wondered why I get like this- why the flying part of flying doesn't scare me
or really bother me- in fact I think blowing up in an airplane wouldn't
be a bad way to go- but being in that confined tube with people who may
or may not puke is more than I can handle and I have to take drugs-lot's
of them- so that I am so hopped up on Adivan that I could care less
what anyone does on the plane. Why when someone says I feel sick do I get a buzzing in my ears and
feel the need to run. Why when my poor niece got sick in the back seat
of a car did I scream for my sister in law to STOP THE CAR and
frantically jump out of the front seat and walk briskly down Mayor
Magrath drive to parts unknown. Like Wikki said- irrational!
I am remembering back to my wedding shower, when my pregnant
sister in law got sick and had to throw up in the gutter beside the car
while all the ladies at the shower stood watching her. I couldn't
believe that they all stood there so calmly nodding their heads and
smiling like this was the most natural thing in the world. ARE YOU
KIDDING ME? I thought if this is what being married and pregnant means,
that you hunker down in a gutter, hurling your tiny shower sandwiches, cookies
and pink punch up for all the world to see, I want no part of it. I
almost called the wedding off right then and there- Riding home in the
car with that poisoned woman, who could at any moment, unleash this
monster all down my back, was shear agony. I turned my head to the
window and tried desperately not to cry or hyperventilate.
I almost NEVER visit sick friends or relatives in the hospital. You can guess why- there are sick people in there.
Only when I absolutely have to visit- and even then I come and go, in
and out of the room and watch them and the other patients like a hawk
for any signs of stomach unrest, the entire time I am 2 shades away from a full blown panic attack. I have been in the elevator with
patients on gurneys who look pale and sickly, and I have almost had to tell them to move over,
because I am having a heart attack. When I was in the recovery room after having one of my kids- a lady in there was sick- I got up yanking the IV tubes along with me and walked out of there- nurses trailing behind me yelling at me to get back in bed. Not happening! I attended the birth of my first
grandchild- I did fine until Whitney said she was nauseated. FREAK!
Kudos to Whit for holding it in! Whitney should know how much I love her because I stayed there, all the time wanting to run screaming from that room. It was one of the hardest thing I have ever done. I am proud of myself for doing it, but not ever going to do it again. EVER.
What did you do when your kids got sick? You are all wondering
that, I know (along with who blogs about this kind of thing? My blog, my
rules... I did warn you!) Well God protects crazies in all kinds of
wonderful ways. For some reason, I was able to deal with them. I am
chalking that up to God, because no other person place or thing has been
able to fix this phobia. With my kids, maybe it's because they
started out just spitting up, they started out as little tiny hurlers.
As they grew into large man sized, bring it from their toenails, the sounds reverberating off the bathroom walls pukers-
well they know me and they try very hard to be discreet, quite, and they
try not to announce that they are sick. The strange thing is they were
really good, at a very early age, at hitting the john or the supplied
ice-cream bucket. And if they didn't it was Stewart's problem. One of
the many reasons I love that man! Oh by the by- Stewart almost never throws up- and somehow, if he does, he is pretty darn quite about it.
I hesitate to share this with the blogging world, because there
are some who may use this against me- tell me they feel like they are
going to be sick just to watch the freak out show- ( if any of you DO
try that, trust me, I will hurt you- I will find out what makes you
crazy and I will use it to make your life a living hell) But man it's
kind of good to know you're not alone in your "elusive predicament."
This
particular phobia raises it's ugly head in all types of circumstances.
Couple it with claustrophobia and yes, Erma Jean, you've got a walking
talking freak show on your hands. That would be me! I am wondering if there is a cure for
this, but then I think- I've heard about people who are terrified of
spiders or snakes being exposed to hundreds of spiders or snakes to "cure" them... I
just can't see myself sitting in a room full if helpful but sick folk, all throwing up to cure me of MY ills. The thought of that is so utterly appalling and insane, I can not even go there in my mind. Nope, probably just going to have to live with it, like so many phobia ridden people do. My biggest fear is that someone I need to take care of, a child or a husband, a mother or father will get cancer and kimo therapy. I will be utterly useless. My hope is that if that happens, God will intervene somehow, like he did with my 3 kids. I know that would be the only way I could be of any help to a sick person.
So there you have it, my fine peeps- the real and truly strange me. I am apparently joined by many in the world in my fear. We are a strange lot, human beings, are we not? If you are ever in my presence and you feel sick, please keep it to yourself- in every way!!!
4 comments:
You're silly. I'm glad you could always handle me when I got sick. Although, I was always strangely cordial and polite when I got sick.
Blech. I'm so glad you were able to diagnose your phobia. I don't particularly care for being sick myself and I'm not a fan of being around others who are puking. But I agree with you that somehow you can get over it when it's your kid. It's so disgusting, but when Paxton's been sick I can somehow muster up the gumption to just let him puke on me and then clean him/me/it up afterwards without hurling myself. So I'm sure that if someone you love needed your help you would be able to take care of them.
Just remind me to not ever be in an elevator with you if I'm not feeling up to par :)
Alisha- done and DONE!!
WARNING – TALK OF VOMIT AND OTHER SUCH STUFF TO FOLLOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!
I don’t think I share your phobia, but maybe I have a strange variation of it in an odd way. When I get sick I absolutely hate the blowing chunks phase of the illness. I’m talking real hate and loathing! In fact, I hate it so much that I somehow subconsciously physically prevent myself from doing it, even when I know it will make me feel better if I do. Over time this intense feeling will cause me to get progressively sicker and sicker to the point of desperation. If it gets bad enough and I feel desperate enough I will finally visit the porcelain thrown, but usually sit and stare at it for a good long while with no results. Even when the sickness is beyond belief and the desperation is at a peak, I almost always have to do the finger down the throat to make it happen. By that time, the sick feelings have progressed to a fevered pitch and what took an act of extreme courage to induce, does minimal good. I’m always jealous of those who just go puke and feel better. The act that I so loathed only seems to make me feel worse because of the process it took to make it happen, which means recovery from the act takes even longer. I hate getting sick!!! Give me a good old fashioned cold any day.
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