Thursday, March 26, 2009


Could there be a grosser word in the whole world? I was going to post the definition... but it made me queasy just to read it so I thought I'd spare the rest of you. Anyway. No clever lead in for this blog post. I've been feeling super crappy lately and then just got a weird pain in my side... so I web MD'd it and immediately thought I had pancreatic cancer. I'm a worrier okay? haha. But really. Something was wrong. So I went to the doctor and he checked me out... had to pee in a cup.. etc. and then they wanted to get some blood. Here is the thing. Blood and needles and even the sight of the arm rubber bands make me sweaty. But I went in knowing they would want my blood (to confirm my own web MD diagnosis) so I pulled up to the table and put both my arms out like a champ, ready to be poked.

Okay so maybe I had to sip some juice because I started getting nauseous before they even started. Whatever. I was a champ. Two different nurses wiggled their fingers along my hands and insides of my elbows trying to find a vein. News flash. I don't have any. They claimed they found one and poked me anyway.. just to say "oops.. we'll have to try it again..." and then I broke. I deflated and started looking for something to puke in. Maybe some tears leaked out of my eyes. Whatever. The nurse left the room to "give me a little break" but I was done. There would be no blood coming out of me that day. So my mommy poked her head out of the door and asked if we could do it some other time. The doc wrote up an order for what he wanted done with my blood... and came in and made some jokes about African sleeping sickness and tsetse flies and slipped the word pancreatitis in there along the way. (Pancreas! I knew it!) He told me to go get it done ASAP and not dawdle. With a serious look. Laughing, joking.. then *FLASH SERIOUS LOOK* "don't dawdle." Obvious doctor scare tactic.

It worked. Sooooo Mama Booth came down and took me to the hospital today to do the tests because they are pros at getting blood out of veinless people. I warned them of my blood test phobia problem... and some sweet older phlebotomist (gag) touched my arm ONCE... poked me ONCE... and had everything done within like 30 seconds. I barely even felt it. I love her. Still... I had to chill in the chair for like a few minutes because I did almost pass out. But whatever. Done and done. Hopefully nothing is wrong. Probably nothing is wrong. We shall see. And I successfully had blood taken without crying or passing out. I seriously think that is the first time that has ever happened in my life. Go me!

Okay so maybe writing this made me really queasy and I had to run to the bathroom because I almost threw up again. I'm not a champ.


  1. oh man... you crack me up! I like the word phlebotomy. Although it does sound like Phlegm which isn't exactly a pretty word. If it makes you feel any better, I think being scared a needles is a family trait because although my fear isn't a phobia I definitely have to talk myself into being poked. I have to breathe really deep the whole time and NOT look at whatever is getting poked... but then it's over fast...

    its all in the family :)

    love ya, Maren :)

  2. I feel the same. When Taylor Norton told me he was taking classes to become a phlebotomist--I just couldn't understand why someone would want to do that! Proud of him yes, but definitely needles and blood are NOT my thing either. Way to be brave.

  3. you ARE a champ. especially when you throw up on the cute, young, male nurse...