The Power of the Mind

I sat there watching the IV go into my arm. Normally, IVs don’t bother me; I know that taking my blood, or G-d forbid, needing to give me blood, is good for me, but I have this particular squeamishness about having foreign substances put into my body. Heaven only knows where it came from, but I can remember having it all my life. At least, I’m totally risk free of becoming some kind of drug addict. Good things come where you least expect it.   Anyway, the problem with this particular IV was that it was neither taking nor giving me blood. Rather, it was a standard dye for a stress test cardiogram, one, I might add, that I never had before. Of more significance on this particular sunny morning is that I hadn’t bothered to read the pre-test instructions and I was not mentally prepared for the procedure.   They finished injecting the dye and had me sit in the waiting room for 45 minutes “for the dye to get into your system.” Just what I needed. I could imagine that dye—an alien substance, radioactive no less, threading its way through my veins. My head got light. I knew immediately what was happening. The last time I fainted, my little girl, then about seven, was being tested for allergies with a “scratch test” where they put a small amount of allergens with needles into the skin, a row of scratches up and down her little arms. She was fine but I had fainted.   I took the garbage basket at hand and put my head down between my...
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