Some people are blessed with veins that are the size of PVC pipes and they bleed like stuck pigs every time you stab them with needles when they need blood work done.
I am not one of those people. I have veins that are like coffee stir straws in diameter, which is tinier that even the most average of basic bitch veins. On top of that, I am a slow bleeder which means even if they manage to get a needle in me, it takes FOREVER to get blood out of me.
Today I got stuck three times by two different nurses. Only one of them apologized for having to stick me more than once. The first one stuck me, freaked out because she couldn’t get a good draw going and ran out of the room, saying she needed to find somebody else to stab me.
The second nurse who came in apologized for the first’s behavior and I told her (only half joking) that it wasn’t the first time that my veins had caused people to do that and it wouldn’t be the last time I’m sure. I made small talk (about what I have no idea) with the second nurse in order to keep myself distracted because I explained to her it was the only way to keep me from thinking about what she was trying to do too much. Because if I think about it too much, I start to hyperventilate, which leads to puking and passing out. And I didn’t want to do that on my new shoes. I don’t think that even fazed the nurse when I told her, which was a good sign. Some nurses are like “I’m sorry..WHAT? Getting blood drawn can cause you to do WHAT?”
So I have to go back on Monday, when Jo (aka Super Phlebotomist Woman) is there to stab me. She’s REALLY good at it and I barely even notice when she does it, as opposed to when the other nurses tend to go digging around looking for a way to get blood out of my tiny baby veins.
I also asked for a second referral to a different rheumatologist (which they gave me) and explained that Dr. Karen Judgeypants and I just weren’t a good fit. I realize that yes, I very may well have bursitis in my wrists/hands and my right shoulder because of what I do.
But I’m not willing to entirely give up and say “Yeah, it’s all bursitis.” when there very well may be other factors that haven’t been looked at yet in play, like RA, OA or whatever. I want a second opinion because the first was shitty.
I know that I have to work the process..I don’t like working the process because I hate waiting. But I know I have to wait and I know that eventually, this will get figured out. Somehow. I don’t know how. But somehow. Some way. I just have to…be better at being patient.