Tuesday

I was going to take a picture and show you me owie, but it’s already gone.

I really figured there would be a big gaping hole surrounded by a massive bruise, but I took the bandage off, and…nothing. I can’t even find the little hole where the needle was jabbed through my oh-so-sensitive skin.

It’s almost disappointing.

I mean, you wait for 45 minutes or so in a waiting room filled with old people, sick people, sticky people, and twitchy people, and then you let some 18 year old med tech take a five foot long needle and stab you in the back of the hand to draw half the blood out of your body, and you expect something.

Yep, blood comes out of the back of my hand now, because my other veins are pretty much used up. And not from the drugs. Just from all the blood work done over the past few years, I suppose. The tech poked her finger over the crook of my elbow and declared all the veins there to be “superficial.”

I tried to not take that personally. More than my veins have a tendency to be superficial from time to time. Hopefully the nice thick vein in the back of my hand won’t collapse and become as superficial as the rest of me, ‘cause I know they’ll want more blood next month.

It might be easier if they just punch me in the nose and soak it up from there.

But…no owie. And I so wanted to show it off, and get all kinds of sympathy.
Dangit.

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