Tuesday, 12 June 2012

Good thing I'm not a vampire. I don't like blood.

Who likes needles?

Nobody.  Nobody likes needles. 

Unless you like heroin.  Maybe then.  But otherwise?  Needles are sharp scary weapons that should be eliminated from medical necessity altogether.  In my opinion. 

Now.  I am NOT a "Needle Nancy".  Needles don't bother me.  I'm not a fan, but I don't get lightheaded like some people (ahem-Hubby-ahem).  ...Which is weird, given the whole anxiety problem. 

Despite my tolerance, I'm certainly not pleased when a needle is required in my forearm, rather than my shoulder.  THIS, my friends, is disturbing.  A forearm needle is an entirely new level of discomfort beyond one's natural fear of being stabbed with a small metal stick.  

So this morning, when the blood clinic awaited, I wasn't exactly rushing out the door.  No.  I took my time.  I putsed around and nodded off and played with my cats.  As any good procrastinator does. 

Once I finally arrived at the clinic (soaked from rain and starving from the required 12 hour food fast), I wasn't aware of how irritating this whole process would actually be. 

First, I had to take a number. 

Then I had to sit in a chair and watch Regis and Kelly with a room full of strangers like like a pack of lobotomy victims. 

They called my number and I gave them my forms. 

The girl looked at my sheet and asked "Are you pregnant?"

"Um, no.  Not yet."

She sent me to sit back down. 


Stomach growling. 

Anxiety rising. 

They called my name. 

"This way.  The nurse will be here in a minute."


She arrived, a nice lady with cool hair.  "Hi Marianna.  Oh, are you pregnant?"

Apparently I look fat today.  "No..."

"Did you eat today?"

Yep, clearly looking really fat.  "No.  Can't you hear my stomach?"

This is when the hell began.  You see, I happen to have a reasonable fear of needles (unlike irrational people out there).  I have teeny tiny veins.  Narrow little baby veins that have no interest in sharing their contents. 

So of course Nursey spent several minutes tying a tourniquet on my arm, smacking me, pinching me, and generally cursing at my uselessness. 

She eventually stabbed me ("Ouch!") and went on to explain how she had to shove it in there further than normal and pull it back out in order to get any blood. 


She proceeded to complain about the government and the health care system while I looked in the opposite direction listening to the sound of my life's liquid flowing from my body at the mercy of some crazy woman with cool hair.   

When she was done, I looked over and gasped.  There were eight - yes EIGHT - vials of my hot red blood on the desk next to me.  EIGHT.

What the hell?  Is she gonna sell it on the black market? Christ. 

I left, back into the rain, wolfing down two granola bars and complaining to myself about the pain in my arm.  When I arrived at work with cotton taped to my arm, someone asked if I just gave blood. 

GAVE IT?  Fuck no.  They TOOK it.  Thieving bastards. 


  1. I am a fainter . . . hell I have even fainted when someone ELSE was giving blood. At the very least, I know totally recognize the signs and provide said vampire, er nurse, with a warning that the world is going black. I gotta say it is oh so much fun to wake up completely confused, not sure where I am and soaked in my own sweat . . . basically like a Friday night in university but without the fun! ;)

    1. Oh my. You're one of those Needle Nancies aren't you? It's ok. I understand. :)

  2. I tried to read this. I really did. But I am one of those irrational fear of needles people. As in I want to curl up in a corner and suck my thumb right now because you're freaking me the f*** out!!

    1. Oh no! I'm sorry! At least you knew better than to keep reading. I would have and then I would've had nightmares.

  3. Dang! That is a lot of vials. I had 6 drawn at the beginning of my pregnancy, and I have no clue why they needed that much. It sucks when they really have to poke you to get the blood.

    1. I had talked to my doc about maybe trying for a baby in a while. I think maybe she just threw in all the tests she could. Thanks?

  4. i'm sorry for you. i'm one of those people who apparently has large, bulgy veins with a big "X marks the spot" written on it because whenever i have to have blood taken, the nurse gets excited when she looks at my arm.
    i still hate it and feel weak at the prospect.

  5. My veins are tiny and like to hide....they hate sticking me. And if I'm sick and dehydrated, forget it. When they had to put an IV in me when I was hospitalized, it was an f'ing nightmare. I forgot how many ppl from the "IV team" came before one was finally successful. They put a BABY IV in my hand, one of those butterfly things, teeny needle. It's the only thing that worked. It sucks when I have to get stuck

    1. "IV Team"... That sounds like some 70s cop show or something. Yuck.

  6. I hope they give that shit back when they're done! Assholes!!!

  7. As much as it sucks to have your blood drawn, I'd say the torture actually happened in the waiting room when they forced you to watch Kelly. Yikes.

  8. I don't mind the needle poke in and of itself, but I start freaking out once they take more than 1 or 2 vials of my blood. You're a braver woman than I.

    1. NO kidding! I wasn't looking and all of a sudden I get a peak of all my blood in those little tubes. Ugh. Puke.