Due to my shit being all fucked up, I have to get blood drawn frequently. Today at the bloodletters, my two favorite vampires were not in. Uh oh.
“Take the blood from the back of my hand. You will not be successful with my inner elbow.”
“I have to try there. It’s the rules.”
Since I’ve been told this before at this very lab, I don’t doubt that it very well may be ‘the rules’. I don’t give a happy fuck about you rules. But I’m not as nasty in real life as I am here in the Pit, so I left out the part about the ‘happy fuck’ when I gave her my opinion of the rules. The vampire sighs wearily and ties the rubber thingy above my elbow.
“Miss, perhaps you didn’t understand me. You can try to draw blood from that spot but it won’t work. And, lemme warn you, if you stick the needle in there and then start digging around with the needle looking for the vein you thought you had in your grasp, I’ll most likely kick you in the shin. Not on purpose, but it fucking hurts when you do that.”
Miss Vampire studiously ignores me and wipes my inner elbow with a swab, flicks at it with her finger and says triumphantly, “You’ve got a good vein right here.”
“What are you, deaf and retarded? Why won’t you fucking LISTEN to me, you bloodthirsty know-it-all? I swear to Chuthulu that if you go digging around in there, I won’t kick you in the shin by accident. I will jump up and roundhouse you to the head with my boot!” I said-- in my head. Out loud I said, “It’s fooling you. It always does that. You will not get a good stick.”
It was like a challenge.
Poke. No blood. Of course not. Slight wiggle of the needle-- I grit my teeth. No blood. Use finger to steady vein while digging around in my arm for-- 1 minute. . . 2 minutes. . . 3 min---- ah blood! Miss Vampire is vindicated!
Um, no. After the first initial gush of blood, there is a drop, drop, drip, drip, dribble, dribble then, nothing. The tube isn’t even an eigth of the way filled. I know what’s coming next. Oh boy, howdy.
Big sweeping movement of the needle. Now pull it out a little, now stick it in a little, swing it to the left, swing it to the right, angle it up, angle it down. Poke Poke Poke YOU FUCKING BITCH. That FUCKING HURTS! GODDAMN IT, I TOLD YOU!!!
Finally, she pulls the needle all the way out and then, get this, starts poking the inner elbow of my other arm with her finger.
“NO!” I actually yelled. Then I calmed down enough to say in a normal tone of voice, “Take it from the back of my hand. If you had listened to me in the first place, we’d be done by now.”
“I have to try. . .”
“What is wrong with you, you cement-headed little sadist? Just because I didn’t roundhouse kick you like I promised myself I would the last time, doesn’t mean I won’t do it this time. I’ll take that piece of rubber shit you’re wrapping around my arm and use it on your neck. That way they can collect your blood from you eyeballs!” I say-- in my head. Out loud I say, “You’re not going to get a good stick. Really, I’ve done this before. What makes you think this arm will be any different from the other arm?”
I contemplate just getting up and leaving but I’ve already taken time off from work to get this done and I’ll only have to come back later and go through this again. This time she takes even more time to coax the stubborn bastard up. Me, I can’t tell what phlobotimists are looking at when they’re looking at the veins in my inner elbow. They are buried deep and I never see the big, juicy thing that they are convinced will deliver buckets of blood.
This time she sticks me with the needle and gets nothing. Not even a dribble. She gives the needle a wiggle and, totally disgusted and angry, I stand up. Talk about freaking out!
Miss Vampire yells at me. “What are you doing? You can’t do that! It’s very dangerous! You could get hurt!”
“A broken off needle floating around my bloodstream would be a thousand times better than the slow torture you are putting me through, you obstinant quack. Get ready for that roundhouse kick to the head, bitch!” I say-- in my head. Out loud I say, “Sorry. Can you get someone else who’ll collect my blood from the back of my hand?”
Yeup, I actually said ‘sorry’ instead of puncturing her temple with the heel of my boot. The story ends predictably. Miss Vampire herself removes the needle and gets another, smaller one and gets the blood-- from the back of my hand.