Bloody Pity Party

I like to write about about my meaningless everyday experiences. Like, how I got my blood drawn during my lunch break today:

I get there at 11:45, I had an appointment at 12:00 noon. They didnt take me until 12:15, so I'm annoyed. My Phlebotomist, Allison, was the only staff member over the lunch hour which meant she single-handedly had to do the sticking, checking-in, and the phone answering.

Fortunately, her husband called her and the volume was all the way up so I got to hear him giving her the sexy sexy talk while she prepared my paperwork. She kept giggling and looking at me, and finally says "Baby, I hate to say it like this but I'm about to stick a needle into some lady's arm so can I call you back in a little bit? Yeah, I know - its gross. I'll talk to you soon, I love youuuu... k, bye."

I wanted to punch her, but she had already tied off my punchin' arm and it was rendered Limp Noodle.

She hung up the phone and said "that was mah hunny, sorry bout that. He doesnt understand why I dont call him, but I keep tellin' him I have a job and even though its pretty mindless work, I cant talk all the time."

It was at this point that I started paying attention to make sure she was matching up the right bar codes with the right tubes.

She then comes over with 6 tubes and says that she usually gives people the option of which arm they want to use, but since I needed to have so much drawn, she'd need to draw from my "writin' arm", as the veins were stronger and less likely to collapse. I reminded her that it was already tied off, and getting blue, so she should get to it. She gets started and about 3 tubes into it she said "you're my #2 record for number of tubes". My all time high was 20. TWENTY tubes!" I just looked at her and made a fist. She told me to stay still.

Allison's next statement of brilliance was "Oh God, look at your hand! Haha! Your fingertips are black!" I looked at them (I hadn't looked to my right the whole time) and caught a glimpse of the blood flowing out of my arm and into the 5th tube. I felt my neck catching up to my arm, in terms of Limp Noodle.

As Allison finished up the 6th and removed the "stick", it happened. I started to get really hot. Then I started to sweat and I couldnt hear anything. I slouched forward into the padding, and told her "I... feeling a little... uhhh. Allison, I d'feel good." She froze and was asked "would you like a moist towel for your neck?" A. I wanted to hit her (for the third time) for choosing the word "moist" during my crucial moment. B. What is this, AirTran? I said uh-huh. But by the time she got back I guess I had already passed out. I woke up with my teeth gnawling into my left hand and Allison moist-towelling my neck. I was sweating like some sort of farm animal, so I took the towel from her and mopped up my mess.

Then she waited for me to come around, and led me to the "lay down room" to recover. The Lay Down Room was in full view of the waiting area, so I got to feel like a total ass while all 20 senior citizens who were waiting to be led to slaughter craned their wrinkley selves to watch me stumble down the hall and flop onto the brown vinyl slab with a dingey-ass pillow. (Maybe this really was AirTran?) She said "this is a daily occurence for us so dont you worry!"

So reassuring!

This is a great kickoff to the beginnings of my medical proactivity!

Oh, Allison. Thank you for being my own personal Vampire on Halloween.