being exposed to me has its good points and bad points.

first, i have to expose you to the original version of mahna mahna.

it’s one of those things most people have heard, or seen, or somehow been exposed to. it’s also something i say at work. well, mahna mahna, i’ll say. a co-worker might chime in with that do doo do do do chorus, or people might look at me funny. like that’s going to stop me.

but one guy i work with – we’ll call him the chicken man, because he has himself quite a few chickens – is apparently easy to imprint. it had already been a crazy day. he sat down next to me, just as i was saying mahna mahna. he sang do doo do do do, and then kept going with the rest of the song. we laughed about it, saying, wow, that probably the quickest song-getting-stuck-in-the-head ever. then we all go home.

a few hours later, i get this text on my cell phone:

Monomunop do do do do do/ Monomunop DO DOO DOO DOO DOO

it made me laugh so hard. i text him back: i win!! i am the awesome!! he responds with:

YES. YOU ARE!!

it’s nice to have someone agree on your awesome standing. anyway, i only see this guy a few times a week. yesterday – monday – i do it to him again. he tells me that mahna mahna can be cancelled out by singing the theme song to “the greatest american hero“. which we do for awhile. and then we al go home.

once more, a few hours later i get a text (spelling issues are his):

OMG YOUR GOING TO HELL WITH ME AND ALL MY FRIENDS! Munominop do do do do do Munominop!  OMG LOL

my response: dude, i have a condo in hell, already paid for. it’s on the nice side of the lake of fire! he says:

i will pick you up in a limo when you FINALLY ARRIVE!! YOUR RAD!!

he’s very excitable, the chicken man is. but i do have a heart. i went to youtube, and found that link for the greatest american hero. i text him back: i found the cure on youtube. the greatest american hero will save you!

chicken man says:

OMG YOU OPENED A CAN OF WORMS! DO DOO DO DOO DO! FOR SURE!

…

this is what phlebotomists do in their free time.

thanks for stopping by. do do do do…

so, i walk into the patient’s room and say, hi, i’m here to steal some blood. i try to be casual about these things, because… well, it makes my job easier sometimes.

the patient looks up at me and says, you’re not funny. he’s alert, oriented, and kind of a jerk. i’ve dealt with him before. the other day i was drawing his blood, and he was telling me that all the phlebotomists here are terrible, and they never get his blood, and blah blah blah. i said, i don’t mean to brag or anything, but i’ve got your blood. he said, well, aren’t you just a superstar.

i don’t mind sarcasm, but i do mind blatant hostility and crappy attitudes.

anyway.

i say, well, you’re not attractive. because i can’t think of anything else, clever or otherwise, to say.

he stares at me. you’re still not funny.

i smile. we can go round and round all day, or you can just let me draw your blood.

point is, even if you’re a jerk, you’re still going to get jabbed with a sharp stick. there’s a life lesson in that, i’m sure.

thanks for stopping by.

so, i’ve taken up yoga.

for a lot of reasons, but mainly because my job is starting to stress me out. i mean, doctors can reattach a human hand, and swap out hearts like they were transmissions, but they sure as hell can’t use a computer. or spell, for that matter – but that’s a gripe for another time. anyway, simply put, doctors order lab tests on the compy, then i go draw them on my next round. but it’s never that simple in real life. they misspell names, they order the labs for the wrong patient, blah blah blah.

so, yoga. on wednesdays.

and, i have to tell you. i consider myself to be in pretty okay shape. i’m no soccer player, sure, but i can take the stairs without winding myself. and, after standing bent over my left leg, with my right leg up behind me, sole pointed toward the ceiling… i have bits that hurt in places i didn’t know bits could hurt.

oh, and seeing your own ass upside down in the mirror behind you? liable to put you off eating anything but lettuce for the next ten years. holy crap.

thanks for stopping by.

dude.

i have a HUGE bruise. a kid just kicked me as i was trying to draw her blood – once in the head, once in the chest. my backup was outside, chatting up a cute nurse.

y’all know i drained that little snotbucket.

thanks for stopping by. oh, my head hurts.

this has been cracking me up for days.

and… that’s about all i got. i feel like i’ve been run over by a taxicab. i’m not sick or anything; i’m just really knackered. clinicals are done this coming thursday. i had a migraine most of the weekend. i had to completely rip back my mitten, even though it was nearly done, due to major gauge, this-really-won’t-fit-my-hand-so-why-do-i-keep-going issues. crappity crap.

and… okay. kinda gross – in the last week, i have had several women in their 50s tell me they had great veins… in their butt. i’m not even kidding. it wasn’t until after the third or fourth one that i realized they were talking about hemorrhoids. come on, now. although, i kinda want to take one of them up in it. just to see the look on their face, you know?

but hey! thanks for stopping by.

less than a week left.

not that i’m counting or anything.

okay, i totally am. and it’s not that i don’t love what i’ve been up to. creepy as it may seem, i’m thoroughly enjoying the professional stabbing of people. but, the long days have caught up with me. i’m pretty boring on the weekends, and my personality is ebbing away due to lack of interpersonal interaction. so, my apologies to those who have endured me live(ish) and in person since the beginning of the year. and anyone willing to make a joke about, you know, how is that all different from the usual you?, i’d like to smack you in the tender bits.

do NOT make fun of a woman this close to the edge. especially one with an extensive knowledge of your anatomy, and access to needles and knives.

now, what was i saying? oh, yeah. my psychotic break. seriously. this close to the edge. and, it’s kind of weird, to be so aware of how untethered you feel you’re acting. i have strange reactions to things. more so than usual, i mean. i know it’s a lack of downtime. i know everything’s just peachy, and i’ll feel better once this is all over.

we’re not even going to discuss the crazy-ass dreams i’ve been having. or the fight i got into with one of the security guards at my work. yup – picking a fight with armed personnel. good times.

i am giggling over my schedule for the next handful of weeks. clinicals end march 13th (woot!). i get on a plane march 14th (woot squared!). i come back march 23rd, just in time to brave eugene for henry rollins (woot cubed!). and… i got a summons for jury duty, so that’s on the 25th (i think; i’ll have to double-check that). my new job starts on march 31st (y’all have no idea how giddy that makes me). which is during the day.

since i screwed up the whole concept of woot-to-the-second-power, bypassing it for squared and cubed, that deserves a woot! factorial.

i’m still a dork.

i was looking at a doctor’s dictation tonight that was possibly supposed to read “fracture, second opinion.” instead, it was “fractured second opinion.” i think i like it better that way.

the lab at hospital a called back today while i was asleep. while i haven’t technically been offered the job, i doubt they’re calling me to tell me i’m witty. so, there may be a minor celebration this weekend.

and i was just clearing out the junk e-mail in my mailbox. it would appear that the spammers think i need a bigger penis. but only about four inches bigger. oh, and a rolex. it appears i need one of those, too.

a wang and a watch. they pretty much have me nailed. uh, not.

thanks for stopping by.

firstly, my office? it was bitterly cold. then it was amazingly hot. now, it’s nearing bitter cold again. someone has glued the thermostat cover to the wall, so the temperature can’t be monkeyed with. it’s just getting a little nutty.

i was telling a co-worker, it’s like our entire building is in menopause. i’m hot! i’m cold! i’m hot! i’m cold! he said it was kinda like being at home with his wife.

anyway.

i had a patient yesterday ask me if i was german. now, i don’t really know what a german ‘looks’ like. i have known people from germany, but that’s not what i mean. i guess what i’m saying is, i’m not aware of a physical stereotype for germans. i have blue eyes, and blonde hair. however, the eyes are relatively pale-ish, and the blonde is semi-covered by red. which, as a note to self, i seriously need to dye the roots this weekend. i’m looking a little old and frumpy (anyone that’s saying something along the lines of ‘how does that differ from any other day’ to their computer screen can smack themselves sharply on my behalf, thanks), and that’s not who i am. really.

but my patient? she’s originally from poland, and she told me she has an aversion to anyone with germanic roots doing medical stuff to her. i assured her i wasn’t german. and then i did what i was there to do.

which brings me to your veins. yes, you.

i don’t like giving advice, in general. however. during my time in the lab, i’ve become aware of a lot of things the basic non-medical person doesn’t know. i’m not saying this in an oh-you’re-dumb kind of way. i’m sure you’re using that part of your brain for something else, like speaking mandarin or playing the flute. and it’s not like doctors and nurses will willingly tell you these things. actually, now that i think about it, most of the nurses i know won’t willingly tell you anything. sure, they’re lovely people. but getting basic information out of one? like pulling teeth sometimes.

as an example – the next time your doctor (or nurse) tells you they need you to have blood drawn, and you have to fast beforehand? you only need to abstain for about 8 hours. anything more than that is just fine, but it will make you cranky, and your veins will sometimes be smaller. also, ‘fasting’ refers to food and caloric drink. you can have coffee, so long as you don’t put in sugar or creamer. no tea, though, for reasons i don’t entirely understand. and no soda. because, uh… der.

hm. let’s make a list:

fasting – ‘no caloric food or drink for 8 hours’ is the verbage. water is encouraged. and unless you’re told otherwise, your regular pills are okay, too. and apparently i need to address this – both bananas and celery count as caloric food. just saying.

water – seriously. drink water until you feel like an overfull aquarium. water hydrates your body in general, and your veins will enlarge to handle the work load. larger veins make my life easier. and water’s good for you, anyway. oh, and any time they’re testing your kidneys for anything, or you’re being tested for diabetes, you’ll have to pee in a cup. if you’ve drunk a bunch of water, you’ll be prepared for that extra test.

time of day – if you can avoid it, don’t get your blood drawn first thing in the morning. much like a person, they aren’t really ‘awake’ yet. veins tend to constrict and bury themselves deeper in the surrounding tissues in the morning, to conserve heat. if you live in a really cold environment (like my office, for example), they will be buried there for most of the day. the best time to get your blood drawn is july. or in the afternoon, if you can’t wait ’til summer. if you go to a gym or exercise, i strongly suggest you work out before getting your blood drawn. your veins will be closer to the skin, to let off your excess heat.

know your body – if you know you have smalll veins, or the lab peeps seem to get blood out of the same place every time, it’s a good idea to say something. don’t tell me you have lousy veins, or that they ‘roll’. the vein rolling doesn’t really happen. what happens is, the person with the needle didn’t stabilize the vein, and the needle misses. or, with elderly men, the outer layer of the blood vessel has hardened, and the needle kind of bounces off. veins don’t ‘roll’. i swear to you. while veins are not encased in cement, they are relatively stable. they have a bit of wiggle room in your body, and it’s very easy to just miss the vein. it’s not a lack of skill. but it’s not a ‘rolling vein’ either. oh, the other reason i’ve had to re-poke at a vein? the patient jumps, and the needle misses. that should be another tip:

don’t jump when the needle touches your skin.

it’s a good idea to mention medical conditions – like, if you’re prone to fainting. or if you have epilepsy. or you’re totally freaked out by needles, and you haven’t eaten for 17 hours because the doctor didn’t explain the whole ‘fasting’ thing. i have a semi-regular patient who is terrified of needles. he shakes and sweats the whole time he’s in the lab. i’m super gentle with him, and i know that if i tell him when i’m about ready to insert the needle, he does his best to hold that arm still. and i never miss his vein. so, there’s that.

you have veins everywhere – if you don’t have usable veins around the elbow area (medical term: olecranon. fun fact), i will totally stab you in the wrist, forearm, or hand. i’ve gotten blood from people’s feet before. once, i took it out of someone’s jugular, but that was crazy time, and i had two nurses breathing down my neck. my point is this – just because you don’t see a vein, it doesn’t mean there isn’t a vein. and you have more than one vein i can woo. i guess that makes me the vein whisperer.

i’m not taking that much – seriously. those little vials they take from you? roughly 5 milliliters. for a more visual example, it would take about 150 vials to fill one bag of donated blood at the red cross. the average is between one and four vials.

i think that’s all the tips i have for today. oh, and don’t hold your breath when you’re having blood taken. you will for sure pass out then.

thanks for stopping by.

i had a patient wednesday thursday morning (what goddamn day is it, anyway? meh. who cares?) who was very nervous about having his blood drawn. he’s never had a good experience, he says. now, since we all know what a type-a, over-acheiver i can be, i was determined to make it a good time. i joke with him, i only have to stick him once, we get blood on the first go-round. this is a regular event, sure. but it’s extra important when your patient is skittish.

i say something that makes him laugh. and i’m staring at the container i’m filling with his blood, and it’s rippling. so i say, ‘hey! when you laugh, your blood jiggles.’ which makes him laugh more, which makes his blood jiggle more.

so. there you go.

kid: (this is his first time giving blood for any reason) so, this is like a shot, right?

me: kinda, yeah. except i’m taking instead of giving. (i tie the tourniquet)

kid: hey, that kinda hurts.

me: well, the doctor also asked us to take one arm. it’s okay; it’ll grow back.

kid: really? no, wait. really?

a moment later. same kid.

kid: is there something wrong with my blood? why is it red?

me: what color is it supposed to be?

kid: uh… blue. everyone knows your blood is blue.

and… same kid. he was a crack-up.

kid: wow, you’re taking a lot of blood.

me: didn’t they tell you? i’m taking all of it.

kid: (laughs) no way!

me: way. we drain you of blood, so the doctor can see your insides. it’s easier that way.

(we’re both quiet for a moment)

kid: huh. that makes sense. so… does that mean i’ll be as white as you when i leave?

me: you’ll be whiter.

kid: like michael jackson?

seriously.

another lab lady: did you get a close-up look at that patient?

me: the guy that just left? no.

lab lady: well, he forgot to wash off his eyeliner.

me: hm?

lab lady: yeah, he had glittery blue eyeliner on! i mean, can you imagine?

me: wow. he should be wearing brown.

(all four of the lab ladies stop and stare at me)

me: what? blue doesn’t suit his skin tone.

(pause)

me: did i ever mention that i roomed with two drag queens when i was in college in san francisco?

and finally,

me: (making conversation because i have to take a LOT of his blood) so, your daughter is a nurse?

patient: yes. the second-to-oldest is.

me: wow. so, can i ask how many kids you have?

patient: yes. i have ten.

me: (blank stare. then i look at his paperwork to remind myself how old he is) (he’s two years older than my mom, yo) wow. ten kids? that seems like a lot of work.

patient: they are good kids.

me: how many boys, and how many girls?

patient: seven boys, three girls. three grandchildren. (he smiles. he is really proud of his family)

me: seven boys? you coulda had your own basketball team!

patient: yeah! with alternates!

me: so… any great-grandchildren?

patient: oh, no. my oldest grandchild is only four.

me: oh. you have a few years then.

crazy, y’all. ten kids. i wanted to ask how his wife felt about ten kids, but it felt inappropriate, somehow.

thanks for stopping by.

because… well.

so, if you have a fear of needles, you should probably tell the people who are about to draw your blood. also? if you have any sort of history of fainting while getting your blood drawn, you should bring that up. oh, and if you have epilepsy. tell the nice lady with the pointy stick.

jesus tapdancin’ christ, y’all.

so, my patient is this tiny little woman. with her two kids in the waiting room. who sits in the chair and says she doesn’t like getting her blood drawn. okay, no worries. she jumps just as i get the needle in her arm, and i miss the vein. so, that’s my bad. i get another woman to draw from the other arm. i’m just standing there, for no reason. the patient says, ‘… feel dizzy…’ and passes out. and then has a seizure.

with a needle in her arm.

i was the only thing between her and the floor, so i guess it’s good that i stood there. she’s fine, by the way. her kids didn’t see anything, so they don’t have any huge trauma associated with needles. they actually got free stickers out of it. but come on, folks. the stabby people? we’re pretty nice people. we’re not in this to hurt you, or cause you pain. we do what we do out of empathy.

yes, empathy. because my next patient was 12 months old. and we needed her blood for the doctor to properly diagnose her condition. that kid hated my guts, and i cried a little because drawing blood from kids so little really sucks. so, it’s not like i’m in this for the glamour, or to make friends.

my point is this. if you have an issue, tell the people who are trying to take care of you. if you don’t tell them, they may not know.

and always let the student draw you. thanks for stopping by.