30 Minutes to Kill

So, the bus comes in 30 minutes and i decided I could waste my life away on facebook, check my already checked emails, or...write in my blog. Granted, I really have nothing profound to say, but hey, I have 30 minutes to kill.


This week has already been the extreme of long--extremely long. (Good one, huh? I thought so too.) 

I have had some pretty boring moments but then some worth talking about things happen to me. First and foremost, I will warn all of you who actually take the time to read my blog...to BEWARE OF THE BYU HEATH CENTER--Well, more of..BEWARE OF GETTING BLOOD DRAWN FROM THE BYU HEALTH CENTER. Did you read that with a cool voice of warning? If not, please go back and re-read it with enthusiasm and fright. Thank you.

Yeah, I had an appointment to visit with a Dr. Mine was really cute and old. Dr. B...something. He was very experienced and was old-school and sweet. I love old people, most of the time. But, yes, he wanted to draw some blood to do some tests on me. Crazy, right? So, he showed me to where the needles lied and I took a seat on this ginarmous lazy-boy styled turquoise squishy chair. A fairly young looking girl came up to me and all I can remember is that amongst her vocabulary were the words, "cool", "chill", "sweet"...and possibly a "dude" in there, but I think I'm making that one up. : )

So, I tell her I used to like shots. Until I had my apendectimy I loved shots. Having an IV in your arm for a few days and them putting it in uncomfortable in the first place can do that to you. But, I wondered if I would enjoy this shot like back in yester-year. I voiced how I used to love shots when she looked at my veins and said that they are "beautiful"...that was a first. I've heard my Densit remark on my  nice teeth, perhaps the hair dresser compliment my hair, but someone to say my veins were beautiful was a definite first. I felt sort of creeped out...but, hey, I like shots, right?

I should have know, though, that my beautiful vein would be in danger, and the fact that she called in beautiful should have been my  heads up to the lack of capabilities I would find that day.

POKE. Nope, it didn't hurt @ all and I watched the blood come out of my arm. She had to fill 4 tubes of my Diana-blood. So, watching as she tried changing the tubes without taking out the needle was sort of fun, until I realized she had no skill whatsoever in how to draw blood. The needle seemed to slowly shift out.

"You have a valve right there, so that's why it's shaking", she told me.

"It's shaking? Okay." That's what I said...not really sure what she was trying to tell me.

BUBBLE. A bubble of blood came out of where the needle injecting my vein. I guess she was not paying attention, but I was.

"Um, there is blood," I mentioned very apathetically.

"OH." And she covered my blood with a piece of gauze, not trying to fix what I thought was the needle point that had shifted.

When she covered my blood it was as though she was hiding her error. Within 7 seconds a gush of streaming blood came out of my vein where the needle still lied, dripped off my arm and left a four inch diameter blood stain on my favorite jeans. I was definitly  unhappy. I probably did not say much. When people are stupid i hold my tongue, and in this case, I really was not sure how to react, except with, "Um, there is blood on me."

She called the lady, probably the one with actual experience, to come help. This lady was concerned about me, and I gave her props in my mind as a patient for caring about me.

She asked, "Are you okay?" refering to the massive blood that was all over me.

"Yeah. You guys are just lucky I don't mind shots and don't mind blood." What. It's true. And it's how i felt.

So, they tried cleaning me up. It was a very unsuccesful attempt but what else could they do. The needle was finally removed.

She did not finish filling the tubes so it was my other arm's turn to get poked. Yup, in my beautiful vein in my other arm. I did not really mind. Poke my other arm instead of the abused on already violated.

Stick. Needle in. Little blood came out. The same girl. She did not know what she was doing.

"Looks like I'm dead," I said, since no blood was coming out of the needle nor my vein. The lady who was called over before came back, and told the chill sweet cool dude girl who was drawing my blood that we had enough from the first poke. I got to leave...very bloody.

Thanks BYU Heath Center blood drawers. My favorite pants are ruined.