How I Became a Pin Cushion

I took the morning off today to travel to Big City for my yearly physical. The Amazon graciously offered to chauffer me due to the complicated procedure we've invented to make sure the door doesn't go flying off the hippy van while bookin' it across the mountain.

I'm not crazy about going in for my physical, but for the most part things went okay. I won't go into too many details, other than to say that I was briefly amused by the addition of oven mitts to the stirrups on the exam table for added comfort.

The good Doc ordered a shmorgasborge of blood work, because she says she'd better work me over while she's got me there. I rarely go in between physicals. I took a seat in the lab and waited my turn. I think the phlebotomist was new, she called for "Heather" to come to the lab several times before she realized she was looking at my chart wrong. Heather is my doctor's name. I should have turned tail and ran like hell right then.. but I didn't. She prodded both my arms a few times before finally decided to try on the left. She did not have a gentle touch, but I didn't mind. I've never been one to freak out over needles, I've had a lot of blood drawn over the years and I usually take it in stride.

When she wasn't able to get anything from my left arm, she called someone to come back there, telling them that she might need help.

Again... I should have ran.

Next she stuck me in the top of my left hand. I don't know what she hit, but I came up out of that chair cussing. I broke out in a cold sweat, I started crying, then I got embarrassed. I have never freaked out having blood drawn.. ever. Now I had both of them hovering over me, asking if I was going to pass out, telling me my face was white. Nurse number two decided she'd give it a shot. She went straight for the back of my right hand, which is a tender spot and it's not pleasant, but at least she didn't leave a pump knot the size of Texas on me like the other chicklet.

Still no blood.

Nurse number two decided she wasn't going to try again and called one of the nurses working up front who used to be a paramedic.

Thank goodness. My theory is, if you can start an IV in the back of a screaming ambulance, you can hit a vein anywhere. Nurse number three took one look, asked if I minded her poking my forearm and after I told her I didn't care, she grabbed a butterfly and popped it in there. She hit it on the first try.

There were apologies by both the first nurse for making me cry and by me for being a big baby. Maybe I was a little hormonal or something.. or maybe it was just that she stabbed my hand like she was drilling for oil and it hurt like a mother effer. Either way I was embarrassed and being surrounded by three nurses asking me if I was going to faint didn't help.

The look on the Amazon's face when I came out of there with four big wads of guaze taped to the new holes they put in my body... was priceless.

All that trauma and I didn't even get a stinkin' Snoopy bandaide.