In second grade I had a splinter in the bottom of my foot.
You may be thinking to yourself... "god she honestly remembers having one insignificant day and the details of it from over a decade ago....who the hell is this woman?"
Well, years ago, splinters were a big deal to me. Everything was a big deal to me. I remember two distinct incidences where I had splinters. They were very traumatizing to me. I was in pain and I was scared. I had a sharp object in my body that wasn't supposed to be there, and it hurt. I knew removing things from my body hurt and this would be no exception. My dad had to go and find tweezers to pull out the splinter. I honestly thought that was all tweezers were good for, was pulling out splinters. I cried, and that was it. The second occasion I remember I was older and had the authority to hold my parents back a bit longer from taking it out. Then they finally got sick of my complaining and made me remove it.
I was also afraid to ever shave my legs as a kid because I knew sometimes you could cut yourself with a razor. This scared me to DEATH. I was terrified of cuts, scraps, and blood. So much so that I never really wanted to do normal kid things like ride a bike, or do flips on a trampoline. You probably guessed that I've never broken a bone, and shots still to this day are a major traumatic event. I only remember having my blood drawn once and it was one of the worst experiences of my life. I'm scared, still. My two biggest fears in life were having my wisdom teeth removed and getting my blood drawn. I've done both. In fact, I've gone in for oral surgery twice. I prefer it to having my blood drawn because there is only a second prick of the IV and then I'm out. Ya, the pain lasts longer, but it isn't really the pain. I've had worse pain, I'm not afraid of the pain. I'm afraid of what it is, what it means and how it feels. I would way rather have the worst stomach pains I have ever felt than feel the feeling of a sharp object entering my skin, blood spilling, and blood being sucked out of my body.
Well now, I can handle splinters, I had one about a week ago and was glad to learn it was a splinter because I was afraid I had a cut or some weird abnormality that was causing me pain. So I pulled out the splinter the second I found it without thinking twice. Then I realized, had this happened ten years ago, I would have been a wreck, hysterical. But I wasn't. And I hope that one day I will be strong enough to have my immunizations, to have my blood drawn, and to one day get an epidural when I have my first child. Until then... who knows....