Thar She Blows!

Great Googley Moogley! Nobody has been up in this place today! Only three regulars, and the others were probably just searching for Cletus. I get a lot of Cletus-stalkers. Was it the promise of a blood-letting tale that has made me as popular as a parent at a middle school dance?

Yesterday, I rushed to the doctor's office after school to give some blood for my 'routine' blood test that did not seem to be covered last time by either of my two insurances. Don't get me started on that one again, by cracky! The phlebotomist assured me that the office uses the lab required by my insurance, and the the diagnosis code would not show that it was a 'routine' blood test, what with Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's goiter and high blood pressure. I just love talking about my goiter. I have a feeling some of you think it is imaginary. But I assure you that my goiter is as real as Mabel. And my blood pressure is not high because I take my medicine. It only becomes high when I have to pay $166 for a test that has cost me $0 over the last two years.

I kind of like going to the doctor's office sometimes. Especially yesterday, when everybody in the waiting room was OLDER THAN ME! Except that cute little toddler, but he was there with his grandparents, so he doesn't count. The only annoying thing was at the sign-in window. They have taped up signs that say, "For the privacy of yourself and others, DO NOT open this window." Duh! Who in their right mind opens the window? Tap on it, maybe, but OPEN it? And they also put up a sign on the door leading back to the exam rooms, "Do Not Enter until your name is called by the nurse." WTF? Has there been a rash of people yanking open the window, rushing into the exam rooms willy-nilly? See what you miss when you haven't been there in 5 months?

The phlebotomist called me right on time for my appointment. There was nothing taped on her door. She did look at me sideways and ask, "Have you been fasting, Hillbilly Mom?" I assure you, that question had nothing to do with my appearance. It was a fasting blood test. I informed her that I HAD been fasting, since 5:00 a.m., as I was instructed by the office person who gave me the 4:00 appointment. I suppose most fasters want a morning appointment. Then the horror commenced.

I told Phlebby, "I didn't even get hungry this time until around 3:00. So it wasn't too bad. It was not being able to have water that was the worst." Again, she looked at me sideways. I said, "Don't tell me that I could have had water! That would be even worse than not having it--knowing that I could." She said, "We like you to drink water. The body is 70% water. You could have had all you wanted." Doggone it! Why do those office people always tell me, "Only a sip if you need it to take your medicine. Then nothing until the test." ?

Phlebby strapped that rubber hose thingy around my upper arm, and commenced to stabbin'. It did not hurt at all. The one thing I noticed was that the blood was coming out slower than usual. I didn't say anything. Phlebby said, "We just got these new tubes today from Dr. Across-the-Hall, and I'm not sure I like them." I told her my blood usually shoots out in no time. "Maybe it's because I didn't drink enough water, huh?" She said, "You could have had water. Remember that next time. This might just be the tubes." She sucked her fill, and pulled out the needle, and still, it didn't hurt a bit. Phleb put a small square of that folded gauze stuff on my armhole, and taped it down with the clearish kind of tape that rips off my tender skin. I left, thinking it was a pretty simple affair.

When I got to the Large SUV, I took out the phone to call my mom and tell her I was on my way home (but really to make sure the kids hadn't tied her up and laid a bonfire's worth of sticks around her feet). As I switched the phone over to my left hand so I could talk and drive, I glanced down at the little bandage. I turned off the LSUV. The little gauze thingy was soaked with blood. It was seeping out from under the bandage, making a little puddle on both sides, leaving an unsightly oozy mess from where I had bent my arm. That can't be good, I thought. I told my mommy. She told me to go back in. Uh uh. I wasn't going back to ask for another bandage or tourniquet or cauterization or amputation. You know how these things can snowball.

I took a tissue off the dash, where I carry them to hand backwards to the #2 son (but #1 nosepicker) on the way to school. I folded it and stuck it over the tape/gauze thingy, and put my finger on it and bent my arm. I waited about one minute. I peeked. The tissue was soaked. I threw it in the handy Devil's Playground trash bag that we hang from an armrest. I folded another tissue. After another minute, the gushing fountain of arterial blood (OK, that's a bit of drama for Mabel, who really doesn't like to hear about blood leaking out of anybody) had slowed to a mere seep. I kept my arm bent, and drove with one hand. Hey! Like none of you ever do that--drive with one hand while staunching a geyser of arterial blood!

Today there is a bruise in my inner elbow crack the size of a dime, and a raised-up pencil-eraser-sized nipply-looking thingy in the center of it that is pink and not purple. It never did hurt, though. I am quite the freak of nature. It looks like Phleb tried to turn my vein inside out. Yes. I know the difference in a vein and an artery. I only used the 'arterial blood' reference for my own dramatic purposes. It would have done no good to tie off my arm with the rubber hose for arterial blood, because, duh, that would stop blood from getting to the puncture site. You're welcome for the anatomy/physiology lesson.

Mabel sent me a Hallmark e-card last night with a little bee getting repaired so he could fly. I don't know what it said, because my annoying absentminded-professor of a son used my computer for ONE thing (he says he looked up the IP address to use it to put another computer on his network) and suddenly it would not play any sound. I'm going back to check that little card tonight. The boy tells me the sound is working now. I'm afraid to try it just yet, because then I would have some more complaining to do. FYI, Mabel...the bleeding has stopped!

I'm not sure Mabel has been able to read this far.
She's a bit squeamish when it comes to blood-letting.