Adam just sliced his finger. I am useless. Like, truly. I found a band-aid. Then I went to lie down so I don't fall down. Partly because he says, 'don't look at it, you won't like it' and, 'maybe I'll just take it right off, it's almost gone'.
The trouble is I don't even like that. Talking about it, and you know, watching him holding his hand and howling in pain and trying not to show me the blood dripping out. So I ask if I can help, but no, so I lay down in the other room away from it, so it might get out of my head. But it's right through my body. It feels like the strength from my bones has been drained right out of them, leaving them hollow and powdery and tingling.
Then I get up and help gaff tape around the tissue which is wrapped around the leaking band-aid, make a cup of tea then I ride to the supermarket to get more band-aids and almond cakes for energy and blood replenishment (?) and I scold him for not being careful enough. And he draws me a diagram of it. And it's OK.
I hate being this weak. It feels like a huge failing. I knew a nurse when i was growing up who was full of scorn for people like me. Not sure what to do about it though. I have accrued numerous bruises and eggs on my head from fainting and falling out cold onto hospital floors, stairs and concrete footpaths. Any ideas?
I just googled it, fear of blood, but I also have fears of crunching bones, particularly when they pierce through the skin, stitches themselves and any other kind of puncture wound really. Now I think about it, perhaps it's quite natural, the fear.