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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

And back to the blood now.

I went to the hospital yesterday for another set of tests. This time, I was there to be checked that my blood clots, and that it does something else, although I'm not clear on what the other one was. I was also there to get my feet checked to see if my arthritis is getting any worse, since my feet are being total bastards in the mornings and after long walks. I think they hate me.

The first blood test went incredibly well. I love the phlebotomists in the hospital I go to because they're (a) so efficient and (b) incredibly unsympathetic. They're absolutely not interested in anything you've got to say or do - I don't think they even see past the crook of your arm. The whole way through my life up until now getting blood tests has been an absolute pain. I apparently have weak veins, which faint as soon as they see a needle coming towards them. This usually meant that I had to be pierced about four times - two in each arm - before they got to any of the good stuff. On one memorable occasion I even had to get the blood taken out of my foot instead. Word to the wise, my good people - never let anyone near your foot with a hypodermic needle. It hurts. It really fucking hurts.

Two hours and many queues later, I was back at the blood test clinic to get a second set of tests done, this time for the rheumatology clinic. I had to point out to the lady - thus forcing her to look me in the eye and not just view me as a collection of veins and arteries - that I'd already been done in one arm, and could she please do me in the other one instead. There was then much banter between the ladies as to whether or not they needed to repeat the tests I was getting done, and they decided that since they'd been ordered by different people I'd have to get the whole shebang done again. So she poured at least half an arm full of blood into a variety of containers and off I popped again.

The only huge disappointment from the whole experience is that neither of my arms bruised very much. I'm absolutely gutted. I loved it during the summer when I got to swan about the tube with short sleeves, shocking anyone who noticed my obvious track marks. Drug taking is super cool, after all.


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