- Eat part of, or an entire beet. (If I can stomach a whole one.) I remember eating them just a few times and HATING them when I was a kid. My mom never forced me to eat them after and so I swore off them entirely. That was probably 30 years ago. Now, I'm not a person who dislikes very many foods. Beets, in fact, are really the only thing I can think of that I don't like. So, I guess I only dislike one food. I decided a few years ago that was ridiculous. I can eat so many other random things, but I can't eat a beet!? Stupid. I NEED to do this. Who knows? Maybe I'll be surprised and find that I like them.
- Donate blood. I have a massive fear of needles. My fear of needles was pretty much the number one, driving reason for me not having epidurals during childbirth. The thought of a needle being inserted between my vertebrae and then a catheter being left behind, was simply too much for me to bear. The thought of a sharp needle puncturing one of my veins and then extracting a significant amount of blood from my body is enough to send me into hysterics. I'm getting weepy just thinking about it. I watched three vials being drawn when I was about 14 and almost passed out once I stood up. I had to sit with my head between my legs for a good 5 minutes to recover. And that was over 3 lousy vials. (I make Ryan come with me and hold my hand whenever I have blood tests done now.) Needles turn me into a wimp.
So, as I said, those things have been on my list for quite some time and because it's been so long, I've decided that now is the time to tackle one of them. It's time for me to be brave and prove to myself that I can do hard things. No, I'm not going to eat beets for dinner. I'm going to donate blood. There's a stake blood drive and I have no idea what possessed me, but I signed up to do it. Tonight. At 7:00. I'm pretty much terrified. I tried to tell Ryan that I could handle myself and do it without him. Thankfully, he could tell I was lying and will be coming with me to hold my hand. And probably pick me up after I faint. Or, wipe off my face if I puke. (He'd better be loving and supportive enough to do those things!) Why in the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks I chose to willingly let blood be sucked from my body before I ate a beet, is totally beyond me. I must be losing my mind.