Thursday, September 21, 2006

Bloody Hell

I had to have blood drawn a couple of Tuesdays ago. I have no reason to log this other than to share my near death experience.

I had an afternoon doctor's appointment, and missed the bodily-fluids-to-lab run, so I had to go to the lab myself. They were running the lab like the DMV. I had to sign in, and wait my turn to sit in front of a person who typed an awful lot of information about me into a computer, while managing to never actually speak to me.

Then I waited to be called in the back. I saw the technician. She was attempting to be blonde, but her roots were at least four inches. She'd rimmed her lower eyelids with black eyeliner, then smudged it, apparently attempting to match her roots. Her skin looked like it was in the midst of a debate to stay with the body or bail. She looked like someone who would go home and curl up with a nice spoon of crystal meth. And of course, she was the person sticking needles in people's arms.

Out she came, announcing, "He'll be with you in a moment, hon. Unfortunately, I'm on overtime."

I refrained from commenting that fortune was in the eye of the beholder. Cruella would not be sticking anything in any of my veins. I silently promised to remember to make all my future doctor appointments for mornings. For life. I cannot chance an encounter with Cruella again.

I smiled at her. She spoke again, promising it would be only a moment, looking apologetic and dangerously close to offering to take one more patient. I effusively assured her I had plenty of time. I could sit all afternoon. I don't know what I would have done if she had put down her purse. Running came to mind.

Finally, I was called back and prepped by a non-Cruella. He was glad to see me, as my behavior would almost certainly outshine that of the screaming six year old serviced before me. I gave my blood like a good little girl and left, feeling like I'd narrowly escaped being poked with a used needle.

I don't even want to think about how this woman slipped through the cracks and became allowed to perform invasive procedures on innocent people. I'm frightened to think of her going on to become, say, a dentist. Are there no standards?

I mean, really. The least I should be able to expect is for the person sticking needles in my arm to not look like she's coveting a couple of needle/vein meetings herself.

Still, though: MORNING appointments. Just in case.

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