The Blood Test Saga Continues …
It started on an innocuous Friday morning, at what seemed like the crack of dawn, with a howling snow storm raging outside. I was up early because I had a visit to the nurse to give blood, for my annual check-up. Just part and parcel tests ordered by the doctor, which also included peeing into a tiny cup, and pooping on a teeny tiny stick … no, wait, I was allowed to poop on a special sheet and then … well, you get the picture. Anyone that’s been through this already knows what I’m talking about.
The thing is, I’d been fasting from before 8 pm the night before, as my appointment was at 7:50. A minimum of 12 hours without food. So by the time I got into see the nurse, my stomach was complaining, loudly.
Twelve stabs later … yes, TWELVE (I counted them), the nurse was making faces and excuses telling me I must either have really deep veins, was very dehydrated, or, quite possible, was a member of the Undead!
I thought it more likely she was incompetent. But I didn’t say as much, you know, not wanting to be as impolite as she was being.
Upshot, after several attempts and getting nothing, with both arms looking like I’d been hit by something, we rescheduled for the following Monday. To say I prayed the whole weekend and spent an inordinate amount of time drink lots of water, is an understatement. Drinking like a camel after a trek across the Gobi must have done it, because, on the third attempt Monday at just after 7 am, I gave up some of my precious blood. Enough to fill 5 tubes.
And yes, I also had to perform the circus act of peeing into a tiny container.
Breakfast never tasted so sweet that morning. But my relief (as it were) was short lived. The nurse called Thursday, the lab had f*cked up my samples—all of them I gasped over the phone? To which I got no answer.
I had to reschedule, again, to do it all again! Poop included. Could I come in on the Friday? No, was the simple answer to that, I already had something scheduled. We went for the following Monday … again! Here’s the kicker, Monday morning bright and early I woke with a shitty head cold. Sniffling into the phone, I had to cancel.
Easter came and went and I survived both the long weekend watching everyone eat chocolate and the head cold. I called the nurse Tuesday, early. We were back on for a Wednesday morning, 9 am visit, this morning in fact.
Well, this is me singing the first verse of the hallelujah chorus. The nurse remembered the vein that offered up a merge supply of my blood, and vials filled to satisfaction, she promised me she would personally make sure the Lab didn’t frog-it up this time around.
I damn well hope so, because there’s no way in hell I’m going through this song and dance one more time!