I give blood. I give blood regularly. Most times it doesn't hurt. Sometimes it hurts like heck. I like to think that I am stoic. I like to think I don't make a fuss. This is not the time for not making a fuss!
Let me make one thing perfectly clear, blood donations are vital, a service to mankind and I have no qualms giving my less than a pints worth every four months. Men can donate every three months funnily enough, and I have no idea why other than a mere suspicion that they don't do as much as women.....but I digress.
The other day I had to have a blood test at the doctors. This should have been a relatively easy task; I made the appointment for the next day and bravely went into the surgery to log myself into their new fangled system. Well, I think the system has been in situ for eons, but I just don't have much need to go and see the doctor or anyone else at the surgery for that matter. After I had pushed my way through the queue of people waiting to see the receptionist and got to the computer screen, I was told that the "Health Care Assistant" who would be taking my blood was ten minutes behind in her appointments. Great. I was there early because I absolutely hate being "on time" (just in case my watch is wrong), so I had resolved myself to sit quietly in the waiting room and hope that I didn't pick up any dreaded lurgy! Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the other incumbents. Two played on their phones, while one had a conversation on hers which, (although I was trying so hard not to listen to) resulted in her telling the caller that she was in the doctors "right now", three times. After having read, as much as I could, all the paraphenalia on the walls (mostly dreadfully boring stuff but actually quite important to someone) and surreptitiously studying the other patients I was finally called for my appointment. The health care assistant was very nice, but before I had even managed to sit down she was moaning to me how she hadn't had breakfast and the office had only given her a five minute break after seeing me which wasn't long enough for her to go and make a cup of tea. I made the appropriate polite cooing noises and she preceded with the simple task of taking my blood. Firstly she "swabbed" my arm with a piece of cotton wool. I use the term loosely as the cotton wool was absolutely bone dry so did nothing to prepare or clean my skin of any germs or dirt that might have been just waiting for a way to get into my bloodstream. She certainly gave them the perfect opportunity! I hope you are not too squeamish about what came next.
This assistant pushed the needle into my vein, allegedly, and hurt me so much that I jumped. She continued to try to manouevre the needle and then took it out saying that by my jumping the needle had come out of the vein. So I got the blame for her lack of sensitivity and expertise. She didn't even say "sharp scratch" like you see on all those television programmes! I was then told that I only had one more chance or I would have to come back the next day; apparently they can only try twice before giving up. So, with a deep breath and my other arm readied for her second attempt, I was prompted to offer up a small prayer; I really didn't want to have to go back again. This time there was no swabbing with the cotton wool, she just went ahead and stuck the needle in. I was so wishing that I wouldn't jump that I was actually holding my breath. I think that might have made my blood flow a tad slower as she made me clench my hand into a fist several times before she managed to persuade the blood to leave my arm!
In my hurry to leave her room, I forgot to ask how long I would have to wait before the results came back. She didn't deem it relevant to tell me either. I had a matching plaster on each arm which I removed on my return home. I still have the bruises to show for my trip though and something even more annoying is that I am due to make a regular donation of blood next week and I 'phoned the blood donation service and asked if I could still give blood and they responded in the negative. So I have now had to reschedule my appointment for that too.
You wouldn't think that a little thing like having a blood test, (luckily for me it was only one phial required) would not only cause me pain, but have me moaned at, give me two bruises and make me want to sit and tell you all about it.
But I live to tell the tale....just hoping that next time I blog, it will be on a much more interesting topic - or at least a little less gory.
See you soon.
Susan x :)
Hi, I am generally treated very well at the docs and hospitals but I do remember an unfortunate occasion when going private to have a tube put up a very sensitive part of me as part of a test. As the nurse was attempting to put the tube in me I asked her how her day had gone (it was around 7pm). She said terribly as she had just been sacked from her main hospital job! She then failed to get the tube in the right place in me, got told off by the consultant and had to do it again! I was sorry for both of us!
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