Aslaug's Axe Shed

Phobias

We all have’em. At least, almost everyone has at least one phobia of some kind.

I have several. If I stand on a chair, I get nauseous from the height. I HATE heights. Looking out my window from the first floor makes me dizzy and I am afraid the wall is going to collapse and I’ll tumble to the street below.Even though the fall almost certainly wouldn’t kill me, it scares me witless. Strangely, I don’t mind flying. Probably because the heights involved are so absurd. I also absolutely despise butterflies and all similar bugs. I don’t particularly like bugs in general, but butterflies and other similar insects, flittering around seemingly completely at random makes my throat tighten up to the point where I can barely breathe. It’s blind panic and I flee from these things immediately if I see them. A few days ago, at work, my boss pulled out a display case full of dead, pinned down butterflies. The biggest one was fully five inches from wingtip to wingtip and while I could admire the beautiful play of light and colours in the wings, the body of the damned thing made me want to back up against the wall.

I stuck to looking at the wings, let’s put it that way.

Furthermore, I used to be dreadfully afraid of needles. Getting an injection or having bloodwork done could scare me senseless, but that at least got cured the hard way by my hospital-treatment. Every time I visited the hospital, I had to get bloodwork done … for three years. LOTS of blood had to be drawn every time. Twenty one tubes was the record. Nine was the average as I recall, until the last six months where they only took five tubes at a time. Then there was the hospitalization itself with the obscene amounts of needles stuck into me, including daily injections of anti-blood-clot-medication which stung like a BITCH …

Needles don’t scare me anymore. I don’t enjoy them, but they don’t scare me the way they used to.

But one thing that I really, really, really loathe … something I can wake up sweating at the thought if … is getting stung by insects. Wasps most obviously. Bees aren’t as agressive but I will get out of the way of them no matter what as well. But wasps … dear Gods I can’t stand the little buggers. I believe it should be made a capital crime to be a wasp! Speciecism? Maybe but DAMMTI they scare me.

Yesterday on the train going home, I was trying to get a bit of rest. I was tired … I had had a rather iffy day at work, and I just wanted to get home, get some dinner and hit bed very early. Suddenly, a jolt of pain ran through me and I shouted in surprise. The people sitting across the aisle from me looked surprised and shocked and a moment later they asked “Were you stung?”.

They had just swatted the wasp that had just stung me … ON MY FRICKIN’ NECK!

A train attendant came by a moment later and noticed that I was sweating profusely and that I was pale as a sheet and she asked if I was alright. I told her I’d been stung and she immediately ran to get some sugar and a damp napkin to help draw out the poison. She also said if I felt faint or if I started having problems breathing I should contact her immediately and she’d ask on the intercom if there was a nurse or a doctor on the train. Thankfully, I’m not that allergic to the critters, so that wasn’t necessary but still …

Of all the places to get stung … on my neck.

When I got home, I wasn’t feeling too good. A wasp is poisonous, even if it isn’t exactly a lethal poison, but it’s enough to make you feel rather unwell. I hit bed at half past seven and I was asleep around eight.

I was awake again at nine.

And half past nine.

And a quarter past ten.

And just before midnight …

I was up and moving around at one thirty and two forty five …

All the while I was itching so badly that when I woke up I had scratched my arms and hands so badly I had waterfilled little nodules on my skin, my throat was swollen on the left side and my stomach was cramping so badly it kept me from getting any rest once I did fall asleep.

I’m strongly against capital punishment. I don’t think it’s a punishment to kill anyone. Sticking them in jail for 40 years with no ameneties is punishment but killing them isn’t. But I’ll make an exception in the case of wasps.

I really, really, REALLY hate the little buggers!