Auntie SparkNotes: I’m Probably Anemic but I’m Scared to Go to the Doctor

Dear Auntie:

I have a bit of an issue (surprise, surprise).

So I chew ice. A lot. Probably 4-7 cups full of crushed ice a day, every day. On top of that, when I don’t chunk and chew on ice all day, I’M FREEZING COLD ALL THE TIME. I am also constantly tired, no matter how many (or how little) hours of sleep I get. I also suffer with brittle nails, dizziness, and skin pallor. All of these are signs of anemia (the official definition of anemia is: “a condition marked by a deficiency of red blood cells or of hemoglobin in the blood, resulting in pallor and weariness.”)

This has been going on for a while, and it has become sort of a nuisance. And here’s why:
1) Because I think that I’m anemic, but don’t want to do anything about it (see reason 3 for why).
2) I already have enough on my plate, including depression, anxiety, and OCD. I don’t need a physical issue too.
3) My mom thinks I’m anemic. And she wants to have me tested for it. Which involves NEEDLES AND A BUTT TON OF BLOOD TAKEN FROM MY POOR BODY.

Starting with reasons 1 and 3, I’m terrified of the tests that they (the doctors) will have to do in order to see of I am actually anemic. They have to draw a good amount of blood with, what I call, “grown-up needles.” And this wouldn’t be so much of a problem if I wasn’t so afraid of needles. When my mom was telling me how much blood they would have to take (about 1 cup), I was almost crying (I cry a lot).

And now on with reason 2, all of these things (OCD, anxiety, and depression) already worry and stress me out:
So why don’t we add a physical issue to my pot o’ stress? BLAM. *adds 1 terrifying cup of physical issue*
Now I have to worry about:
Taking pills,
Going to doctor’s appointments,
Taking more blood,
AND my therapy appointments. Along with school, church stuff, Venture Crew, and other activities I partake in.

It really scares me, even though I should probably have it done. But, like a small child, my answer is “But I don’t wanna!”

I don’t know what to do. Please, some of your amazing advice would be fantastic because, frankly, I don’t really have anyone else to talk to about this (nor do I want to talk to them about it….). So please help me!

For starters, Sparkler, here is the bad news: You’re going to go to the doctor.

Yes, you are. I’m sorry, I know it sucks, but it’s non-negotiable. You must do this, unpleasant as the appointment may be. You know why?

BECAUSE AFTERWARD, YOU WILL FEEL BETTER.

Which is the one thing you seem to be completely overlooking, and the thing that jumped out at me about your letter right away. You see dealing with this medical issue as one more miserable, stressful, exhausting experience piled onto a miserable, stressful exhausting life—without ever considering that the medical issue is among the things that’s making you so miserable, stressed-out, and exhausted.

Which, guess what, it almost certainly is.

Even if there’s no precise causal connection between your hemoglobin levels and, say, your anxiety or OCD, being physically unwell drains you of the energy you could otherwise be directing into managing the rest of your life. Your body is the vessel that carries you through the world, sweet pea. If it’s not working the way it should be, everything else gets that much harder—and unless you take a time-out to care for yourself, it stays that way.

Which is why you need to go to the doctor, and why your attempts to justify not going are so utterly self-sabotaging and ludicrous. You are like a person who’s driving around in a car with a completely flat tire—but you won’t pull over to change it out because changing a tire is hard and time-consuming, and it’s cold, and what if there are rapists outside? Or bears? Or rapist bears?!! Plus you’re already having a hard enough time working the clutch, and reading road signs, and figuring out how to turn on the car radio! You’re totally overwhelmed! Why should you have to do the extra work of changing the tire?! It’s not fair! You don’t want to!

… So you just keep on driving, and the tire keeps flattening, until eventually it tears away entirely and you’re riding down the highway on nothing but the raw rim of the wheel itself—and the ride itself is miserable and bumpy and slow and infinitely harder than it has to be, and now the wheel is grinding against the pavement, and sparks are coming out, and whoopsie, would you look at that, THE ENTIRE CAR IS NOW ON FIRE.

But hey, at least you didn’t have to suffer through the minor, finite unpleasantness of pulling over and doing some basic maintenance! That makes you feel better, doesn’t it?

Yeah, no. Of course it doesn’t.

And look: I know that none of this makes it less intimidating to go to the doctor, to get your blood drawn, to learn that something’s not right with your body. None of that stuff is fun—which is why, after your appointment, you should have immediate standing plans to go to the movies or get ice cream or pet fluffy kitties at a cat cafe. (Also, when you’re at the doctor, just tell them straight-up that you’re scared of needles, and they’ll do everything they can to make the experience as easy and painless as possible—which I guarantee you is much easier and much more painless than you imagine.)

But like fixing a flat tire, this appointment isn’t something you’ll get through just to resume slogging through life as it was before; you’re getting through it because after you do, you have a smoother, sweeter ride to look forward to. Think of how nice it will be to wake up feeling rested instead of exhausted; imagine what it might be like to be operating from a place of basic physical wellness instead of your pallid, brittle, nervous, shaky status quo. Think of how much better you’ll feel when you are quite literally feeling better. You deserve that, Sparkler, and I know you’re strong and smart and resilient enough to grit your teeth through one single stupid needle stick to get there. Good luck.

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