Today I had to go for my quarterly taking of blood. Normally this is no big deal. Except. . .
Three months ago when I went, it seems my veins were MIA or maybe the phlebotomist didn't know what she was doing. Anyway, two different people ended up sticking me THREE times. Since all the sticking was really starting to hurt and I wasn't too happy with the whole situation, I started to CRY. So, of course, everybody in the room was trying to distract me. What am I, a little kid?
Well apparently I am, because today in the waiting room I started feeling a little uncomfortable. I decided I was a little traumatized from the last time. Go figure. My name was called, I sat down in the chair and I STARTED TO CRY! Now the phlebotomist was very nice and asked me if I was feeling sick. I told her my whole pathetic story. She was surprised that I had such a bad experience because her colleagues were all good at their jobs. (Whatever. At least two weren't.) This wonderful person found a vein and I was done in about 2 minutes. YA-HOO!!!! Only one problem, I didn't get her name for the next time. :(
Oh that makes me so sad! I hate a bad blood experience. I have had problems in the past also, and I finally got one lady to tell me they need to use a "butterfly needle" with me. I guess it's a tiny needle, and it certainly does seem to work better when I get one of those "other" colleagues. Good luck next time!
ReplyDeleteMan, I really hate needles. Of any kind.
ReplyDeleteI'm getting to the point where needles don't bother me for the most part. I have to say when you get a good phlebomotist they should make a million dollars an hour!
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