I love science and have always thought I could have been a pretty good doctor—except for one thing: the sight of blood makes me instantly nauseous and faint.
As a pre-teen on a cruise with my grandfather, I watched as he tripped over a broken pipe sticking out of the dock. His small puncture wound sent him to the ship’s infirmary—and me straight to my cabin. It was a rush to get myself horizontal with my legs up before passing out.
A few years ago, I had the honor of being named godfather of my sister’s child, Matthew. That meant front-row seating at his bris. I knew it might be bloody and that I shouldn’t watch—but I did. Up close. Big mistake.
By the end of the ceremony, I felt woozy. As I was given the baby to hold, I felt my consciousness slipping away and dropped down to one knee.
“Oh look, he’s praying,” my sister-in-law observed from across the room. Not quite. I handed Matthew off like a football, collapsed into a recliner, and broke out in a cold sweat.
The next two times I attended a bris, I made sure to turn my head completely in the opposite direction.
One day, my mom called me into the kitchen. I assumed she needed me to grab something from a high shelf. Instead, I found her at the sink, blood gushing from her thumb. She very calmly asked me to go to the bathroom and get a bandage for her, since doing so herself would drip blood all over the carpet and make our living room look like a murder scene. The race was on: could I grab the bandages and get back before passing out? Just barely.
A few months ago, I took a softball line drive off my index finger. After making the play, I looked down to see blood streaming from my finger down my hand. I dropped to a knee, squeezed my finger, and prayed I’d make it to the bench before passing out. I did—just barely.
I can watch the most violent and bloody Hollywood movies with no problem, but one glance at a real drop of blood and I’m all done. Why do some people react this way to blood while others don’t? One theory is that sensitivity comes from lack of exposure. Maybe. Women who have given birth and soldiers who have been in battle seem to be OK with it. Maybe I just haven’t seen enough real blood and guts in my life.
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