Blood Work with the Blood Jerk

Yesterday morning I woke Dustin up at 6:45 on his day off. He had offered to go with me to get my blood work done weeks ago and the day had finally arrived. We got there 5 minutes early. 7:10 AM to be exact. I signed in and we sat down in those ugly blue chairs. Dustin caught up on hockey on his phone. I tried to read some blogs to distract myself as each person was slowly called back. After 30 minutes of nervously waiting, my name was finally called. I asked the guy "Is it OK if my husband comes back? I'm not good with this kind of stuff..." and he said "Yeah as long as he behaves himself". Whatever the hell that means. I really hate when I can't tell if people are trying to be funny or are just weird. 

The guy had us wait in a very small room. I sat in the seat and Dustin stood next to the door. More waiting. Then it was finally my turn. I shifted in the seat with my heart pounding. The guy told me to uncross my legs and take my sweater off so I did. He asked which was the better arm for veins. I told him they both sucked. So he went with the left one. Tears started rolling down my face. I felt panicked. It was hard not to squirm around. I tried to take deep breaths but it came out like I was gasping for air. The guy kept saying things like "you've got to calm down", "you have to get over it", "it's all in your mind", "it's not like i'm cutting off your arm". I just wanted to scream at him FUCK YOU. I'm sure he meant well. I get that he's just trying to do his job and I wasn't making it easy on him. I get that. But when you choose to be in the medical field it should be mandatory to have some fucking compassion. Not everyone is good with needles. Or blood. Or whatever. We all have our little quirks. I totally agree that I needed to calm down. I WAS TRYING TO. I absolutely know it's a mental thing. It doesn't mean I can just wave a wand and it goes away. As he stuck me I started crying harder. He took the needle out because the vein was no good. He wrapped my arm as I told him I felt like I was going to pass out. Zero empathy from this man as he just looked at me. Thanks dude. Dustin was still next to the door because the room barely fit the 3 of us. I had hoped he'd be able to sit next to me and hold my hand or let me bury my face in his shoulder but the room was too small. So he just stood in the corner trying to talk me down from my panicked state. My faint feeling turned into nausea and I told the guy I was going to throw up. He let out an annoyed sigh and told Dustin to take me to the bathroom. So I "threw up" which was more of a dry heave since I had been fasting for 12 hours. There was nothing in my stomach but my body still went through the same motions. After 5 or so minutes in the bathroom I started feeling somewhat better. That's when Dustin took me to the water fountain. I could hear the guy say to Dustin "She should have drank a lot of water before coming..." as if that would have solved everything. Anyone who knows me at all knows I drink a ton of water on a daily basis, not just when I have some medical issue. After I drank EVEN MORE water I went back into the room for him to try again on my right arm. 

At this point I was not only worn out and panicked but I was fucking pissed. I sat down and turned my head and grabbed a chunk of hair with my hand and closed my watery eyes. I don't remember exactly what I was thinking about but I just tried to focus on anything else. The guy was able to get blood out of my right arm pretty quickly. As he wrapped my arm up he made a comment about all of my tattoos assuming that it's the same thing. IT'S NOT. When you get tattooed you are there willingly, the needle is completely different and it isn't pulling anything out of your body it's putting something in. After that insensitive and naive comment he then went on about how there are people in hospitals who don't even know their blood is being drawn and how lucky I am that I get to walk out of here. Of course I know there are people struggling with way worse things than I ever have but that doesn't mean that I matter less. That doesn't mean that my phobia of blood work & my anxiety doesn't deserve acknowledgement. We all have stuff. Yes, to the outside world it may seem trivial, it may even be trivial but it's still real and it's still something we are struggling to overcome. He made me feel like I was some drama-loving little baby who just needed to suck it up. I absolutely wish I could walk in , sit down, get my blood drawn and walk out like the other people that I saw there that morning but I'm not. At least not right now. 

I can't remember a time in my adult life where I've had a good experience giving blood. I've passed out or gotten sick every single time. But the difference with those times is the fact that the nurse was always extra nice. They'd get me ice and put it on my neck or bring me a cup of water. They'd have me lie down or even have another nurse come in and hold my hand while they drew my blood. Those are the things that help me get through it. All I need, all anyone needs is a little kindness and understanding. 

I got through it as I always do. Dustin helped me walk to the car and he drove me home while I drank Gatorade (which I ended up spilling all over my shirt - HA!) and ate muffins in the passenger seat. He joked around with me and made fun of the asshole which made me laugh. Dustin has a way of always making me feel better no matter what. His humor gets me through life much of the time. I'm so thankful for him. We made it home and before I left for work I cleaned up my shirt and tried to pull myself together.

Thank you Sam for the many funny memes but especially this one.
Thank you Rachelle for this hilarious/cute video.
Thank you Katie for the hilariously inappropriate memes and adorable Piggybank photos.
Thank you Nicole for checking on me.
Thank you Dustin for everything, always.