Part of being blessed with diabetes is having to have my blood drawn every 6 months or so. I was ecstatic when they came out with the ability to use blood from a finger prick to test my Hemoglobin A1c. What I did not realize ~ in the jubilance of discovering this little miracle ~ is that I would still have to get my blood drawn traditionally (in the crook of my arm) to test my thyroid levels?*sigh*? today was the day.
I had been putting it off for several weeks, begging for refills on my Synthroid from the pharmacist, who in turn, went begging my doctor for a refill authorization. It was a very humbling experience?for everyone involved. I was down to my last 2 pills this morning and said to myself "today's the day". I had been mentally preparing myself for the past week that this would have to be done today. Convincing myself that I was absolutely, positively down to my last minute was only problem number one.
Problem number two is that there are no good labs in Skagit Valley?at least that has been my experience. I had a really great phlebotomist all lined up that I had been using when I was pregnant and had to get blood draws EVERY MONTH (yes, I said EVERY MONTH). I would drive all the way from the office in Mount Vernon to Sedro-Woolley on my lunch hour, just to use her. I even waited for her to come back from lunch one time so she could do it! Imagine her surprise, as she stepped off the elevator from her lunch break into an empty lobby ~ except for me, waiting for her patiently, swinging my legs and flipping through magazines. Back to problem number two. My girl quit! She called me @ work one afternoon several months ago to tell me that she was leaving. She knew how much of a problem this was going to be for me; the only other phlebotomist I had myself convinced I could use worked below my doctor's office in Bellingham and kept strange hours. Yesterday while Reagan and I were shopping in Bellis Fair, it crossed my mind to swing on in there and just get it taken care of?but then, "naaah"?. So that leads us to today and the fact that today was "D" day.
I had the lab slip on my desk all morning, all filled out and signed by my doctor. Occasionally I would look over and scowl at it, as if letting it know how cranky it made me would help matters.
Let me clarify here ~ I am not scared of getting my blood drawn. It doesn't hurt (usually). I have a vein in my arm as big as a cable and any phlebotomist worth their title would be able to hit it from across the room. I am not afraid of needles; I take between 5 and 10 injections of insulin throughout the day, no sweat. However, I *HATE* getting my blood drawn because it's just so dang creepy. I sweat bullets. Literally. Bullets. My hands get clammy and my heart races. I look straight ahead as I try to ignore the snapping of the latex gloves going on and the technician prattling on, trying to distract me: "That's a cute Coach purse. I love it. Where did you get it?" I clench my teeth and tell her, trying to let her know (without using words) that I was in no mood for conversation. Distraction tactics have never worked with me. Poke! It's in. Now to survive the changing of the tubes. I hate that part too?it jolts me every time. She continues with her dialogue, and I continue staring straight ahead, teeth clenched, a small trickle of sweat running down the side of my face. "Just hurry", I think. She puts the cotton ball over the needle, draws it out and I take a deep cleansing breath. Done!
What do I want for a treat today? Every time I get my blood drawn, I "treat" myself. This has been tradition since I was diagnosed with diabetes in 1981 and had to be taken down to the Virginia Mason for doctor's appointments. In those days, a treat would be getting to pick a place to eat out on the way home or a new toy. Since I have been treating myself though, I usually pick things like driving home on Chuckanut Drive instead of I-5 (my doctor is now in the Fairhaven District in Bellingham), or a new pair of gloves. Something small, but something I like just the same. Today it was an iced latte. I had my shopping itch scratched yesterday, so an iced latte hits the spot today.
Original source: http://andisnell.wordpress.com/?p=22
