Yesterday was my, one week before seeing my diabetes doctor, go get your lab work done. Just because I'm a lovely, voluptuous woman, doesn't mean I have the biggest, baddess, stick out like nothing veins. No-sir-ree-bob. They are these tiny little things that no one can ever find, and they have a nasty habit of either rolling or collapsing, I've heard it both ways. Lovely. I have given up on them trying to find them in the normal crease of the arm place. After being stuck 2 or more times IN EACH ARM, I now tell them that they just have to use the ever friendly butterfly get the blood thingy in my hand.
People, you think it hurts to get it in your arm. You should try the in the hand option. It hurts like, well, you know, insert your own word here.
Anygettingaheadofmyselfhere, I arrive at the lab. Fasting for my 12 hours with nothing but water to satisfy my craving. Walk in, hand in my lab order, sit down. Then I saw her. Kristine. (yes, we are on first name basis now). I just knew I was going to freaking love her because SHE HAD PURPLE IN HER HAIR!! I know, right. We were kindred spirits. When she called my name, I almost jumped out of my seat and skipped to the loo room.
I explained my lovely little veins of horror and she said no problem. I then told her I loved her hair. (I've learned that if you engage in some kind of talk, they aren't so mean to you, unless you are the other lady tech that was there, and she just has that, I'm a B#$%# look and attitude) She starts examining my right hand. check, push, check (all you nursing type people know what I'm talking about). Hmmm, let's try the left hand. Check, push, check. Hmmm. Well your hands are pretty cold. Why thanks, I haven't had anything but 2 bottles of water in 12 hours, you think your body just heats up by itself.
Then, she had me do something I've never had to do before. I had to go out and put my hands under hot water. WTH, makes sense, since my rings seem to fit a little tighter in the summer. She finally pulled me away from the faucet, because, damn, it was feeling nice, and I sat back down in the torture chair. She puts the tourniquet around my wrist. She pokes that mean old needle thing in my hand. "Tell me if I'm hurting you". Hell's bells, the damn vein kept collapsing. Freak. "I'm going to have to pull this out and try another one". Oh goodie gumdrops. I can't wait.
Finally, 3 viles full of blood later, I am sent to the restroom to relieve myself. Ok, pee in a cup. I hate that worse than getting the blood drawn if you really want to know the truth. First I had to wait because someone else was in the loo giving it their all. Fun times. Imagine me, standing there, looking all awesome and stuff, holding my little cup. I was cute, let me tell ya.
Thank goodness, I got all that done and headed out the door. Oh, I forgot to mention that they moved the lab down the hall and around the corner from where it was before. Ask me how stupid I felt when I took a right when I should have taken a left right out of the lab. Not a left/right, a left as soon as I stepped out into the hallway. Oh whatever, you get the point.
Kristine told me to never pass out on the floor in a lab. Ummm, Kristine, TMI honey, TMI
