71. the one with the blood test

for someone who spends their days embroidering and applique-ing bloodspatter, i’m awfully squeamish. but then, red french knots are very different to the real thing.

i had to go for a blood test yesterday (i actually had to go a while back, but have been successfully putting it off for years days). for Normal People, it’s probably just a routine thing that they can just do, but for me it became A Thing.
a thing that involved Husband taking time off work, so that he could wake me up early (obviously i barely slept the night before), make sure i got washed & dressed (clean asylum hair, proper day clothes, underwear, shoes), and take me there in the car.
and come in with me. and show me how to take a ticket. and where i should stand. and where i would go when my number was called. and confirm that 60 still came after 59.

the waiting room was packed, mostly with over-70s, so i whispered to Husband that we should stand near the back so that they could take the chairs – even though I COULD BARELY STAND on my trembling jelly legs.

“oh fuck, Husband. *dramatic sigh* this is like my WORST THING”
“being Outside, do you mean?”
“well i actually meant Waiting, hospital, blood & needles.. but yeah”

they finally started calling people in.
Husband: “are you okay?” *sympathetic*
me: “gawwwd, imagine if the apocalypse happened right now… this would be the group of survivors we’d be lumbered with. we’re the youngest ones here! we’d have to be the ones who do all the stuff. that’s so too much pressure and responsibility for me to deal with right now”

numbers of doom

by now i was shaking (hands and legs) and sweating and my mouth was all dry and my heart was pounding, and even though my feet were carrying me down the corridor to the room marked BLOOD, the voices in my head were screeching “it’s not too late! you could still make a run for it!”

here is a photo (*artists impression) of me sitting in a comfortable chair, looking out of a large picture window at the hedgerows, trees and rolling green hills of the beautiful derbyshire countryside.blood test

also pictured, my right arm and what may or may not have been occurring BECAUSE I DID NOT LOOK.

after my traumatical surgical procedure, Husband took me home – via the chocolate eclairs aisle at morrisons – and settled me on the couch with a big mug of sweet tea.

even though i DID NOT LOOK, all afternoon, i kept reliving the moment and shuddering and whimpering and being pathetic.
at bedtime, Husband had to remove the wrapper for me because i glimpsed a smear of dried blood on my arm and the cotton wool was STUCK.
Husband: “let’s be honest, ‘zombie apocalypse survivor’ seems unlikely at times like these”

i still haven’t looked.

on the bright side,
1. i know i’ll never take up heroin as a hobby
2. i didn’t have a panic attack so my medication must be working



22 thoughts on “71. the one with the blood test

  1. Glad it went ok (!!) and you survived and your arm is still attached (I’m presuming it is?) Let’s just hope they can read the results properly and you don’t have to go for another. Don’t worry, that rarely happens… ;) big sloppy snogs for being brilliant and brave xxxx

    • i haven’t looked yet!!!
      at some point i suppose i’ll have to wash my arm – i’ll check then if it’s still there.

      *brainskimming* the bit where you say about going back for another…

  2. Oh well done you! Aren’t we lucky to have such lovely husbands! Mine is a pro at scooping me back up, brushing me down, and encouraging me to Go Again! Sometimes I just crawl into bed tho :O) I’ll go again tomorrow, maybe! Sometimes I need the assistance of chocolate :O) I hope you’re feeling better by now xx

    • i’m all fine today thanks (apart from wondering if i’ve contracted tetanus from the rusty nail they used to make the hole)

      oh helen, didn’t we do well to trick them into marrying us??! :D

      • Oh absolutely!! He had no idea what he was getting himself into bless him! But then to be fair neither did I, I thought I was quite ‘normal’ turns out not :0D xx

      • i show Husband my gratitude by ironing his work shirts occasionally. and liberally applying them with brown thread & melty black vilene gunk. WE’RE A TEAM!

  3. Ohh dear, don’t worry you’re not the only one that has a mental breakdown over a blood test. We are ninnies : ) Well done for getting through it- Gilmore Girls marathon to celebrate might be in order if I were you! x

    • and the thing is, they’re so good (the nurses i mean, not the gilmore girls) i didn’t even feel it – it was just the 6 years and 3 days build up that got me in such a state!

      marathoning today, yes :)

  4. I’m so glad that you and hubby survived. All intact.

    I thought I had a stressful week removing chipmunks from the dryer vent and hornets from the electric panel. I’m still waiting for a zombie to show up that all that I haven’t seen this week,

      • I’m there for you. Hubby closed the lid on the recycling bin and hasn’t checked it since he found the family of chipmunks in there too. (I guess he jumped and slammed the lid, I’m sorry I miss that.) So if it stops raining in the next couple of days I guess I will chase them out of there too. They make a mad dash for our front door when we come out. I really think they are wanting to take over the house.

        I even build a cage around the dryer vent so they can’t get in anymore. I’m sure they are plotting their revenge. lol

  5. Well that was very generous of you, letting them have some of your blood. I bet they aren’t going to give it back to you either? And I bet they never said thank you. When the apocalypse comes perhaps the zombies will eat them ;)

    • omg – now that i think about it, i think *i* thanked *her*!!!!!!!!!!

      “thankyou for taking my blood and causing me mental anguish, thankyou so much”

  6. There’s a famous Tony Hancock sketch, where he gives a pint of blood; “A PINT?! That’s half an arm!”
    Luckily for a blood test, they don’t need very much, so I’m pretty sure that arm will still be attached – whenever you get brave and check.
    Husbands are fab people (well ours are at any rate). Mine doesn’t even let me iron his work shirts; perhaps its because he thinks I’ll cover them in brown goo & vilene-type gunk… Or that I will burn them – for which he has good cause (full details in my blog….)
    I do manage to produce the odd meal, in expression of my gratitude. Sometimes I even don’t burn it….
    I definitely want Mister Lizziemade in my group if there’s a zombie apocalypse…
    Hope your arm is all better and that you managed to wash it okay, without looking?

    • i successfully managed a bath without looking, but peeking at it now, i see it’s practically invisible already (the wound site i mean, not my arm).

      lucky Mister Lizziemade, getting meals he hasn’t had to cook himslef – i’m pretty competent at salad but that’s about it. although usually, “Husband, can you do the salad? i don’t think i should chop vegetables while my fingers are feeling a bit funny”

  7. Ah, me and the husband could relate to this so much! Not so much with blood tests, just the difficulty of trying to get me out the house, and keep me calm in different situations. The last line just summed it up perfectly with us – that as crazy as everything may seem, this is calmer than you could be!
    Helen x

    • it’s a great way to function, isn’t it – “i could always be worse” :)

      i’m glad you could relate / i’m sorry you could relate <– i'm not sure what the appropriate polite response should be there.

  8. Hmmmm…I hear echoes of myself in this ere bloggy thing of yours. Although after 4 kids and 12…yes that’s 12!!! blood tests you’d think I’d be quite the pro. Sadly not! Unfortunately I am still the big fat wussy scardey that I always am. I still go to cry. And…I still feel the same insane sense of disgust that they have my blood and now MI5, the CIA, the FBI and google are somehow watching my every move through DNA tracking!
    (The last blood I had taken was pretty traumatic though. They sucked it out with a giganta-normous syringe from a canular in my wrist whilst I was incapacitated in a hospital bed after nearly dying from a massive blood loss after having my last babby – yeah, that’s loosing a whole swimming pool full of blood and they thought it a good idea to take more! – thieves I tell you, thieves!!! I hope for my husbands sake they don’t think it a good idea to clone me!!)

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