Surviving the Bood Test
It was raining when I went to the hospital this morning for my blood test, required for my annual physical exam next week.
There was hardly anybody in the hospital. Parking spaces were plentiful. When I went to the lab on the first floor, I was the only patient.
“Where are the people?” I asked the technician, trying to indulge her in small talk and hide my nervousness about the procedure.
“The sick people are upstairs,” she said.
“And the rest?”
“Oh, they must have gone shopping! In this kind of weather, the mall is the only place that’s dry.
She motioned me to sit comfortably on a high chair, then asked me which arm I preferred to draw the blood from.
“Let’s do it on your left arm then.”
“I don’t think I could look while my arm is being violated,” I told her as she was getting the needle ready.
“No problem,” she said. “You can look at me or at our office decorations.”
I decided to look at the office decorations.
Suddenly, I felt a prick, and for a couple of minutes my eyes never wandered away from the office decorations.
Then, it was over. I felt her pulling the needle from my vein. She placed a gauze at the point of entry, pressed on it, and secured it with a tape.
“You can take it off after 20 minutes,” she said.
I noticed the rain had stopped on my way back to the car. I even saw a little bit of sun.
I breathed deeply and felt relieved it was over.