No tears

It was an amazing, profound experience. This morning, I got my blood taken without a panic attack.

It even took two tries: one in my right arm, and then a successful one in my left hand, after digging for it just a little bit. But through it all, my heart rate was only slightly elevated, I wasn't reduced to tears or biting hard on my fingers to stay in control, and all I did was avoid the chair and be careful that I didn't smell the alcohol. At the end, I got up, gathered my things, and calmly walked out, patently amazed that no one in the waiting room would be able to tell that even last year, I would have been walking out a complete wreck.

Is it a one-time thing? Is there a switch in my head that went off, saying, "You're 30 now; 25 years of that is enough"? Was it because it was first thing in the morning? I don't know, and I don't particularly care. I'm just glad. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable enough for the chairs, but the nurses said not to even try, then, that it was fine to ask to lay down if that's what helped. But if I can do this without panic, that would be wonderful.