Bloodtest
Where I live there is a methadone clinic in town, so that side of the city is real classy. You know what I mean, junkies ambling around, glassy eyed, hitting you up for change and cigarettes.

I've even witnessed girls shooting up on the side of the main road in broad daylight in front of their kids.

Unfortuantly, this is also the part of town with the bulk billing medical centre, where you can go and line up for hours to see a doctor you've never met before with no appointment and you don't have to pay (as long as you have your medicare card with you).

So, I was sick and had been for a couple of weeks. Unable to get an appointment with my doctor for about another week, I went into the medical centre and saw a doctor there. They thought I had glandular fever, so I needed a blood test.

The nurse came in and took my blood, I'm sure everyone has been through this at one time or another, but this was my first experience and the sight of a small bottle filling up with my blood made me feel a little woozy.

Then she pulled the needle out and held a cotton wool ball over it for about 10 seconds and let go.

My blood was all the way down my arm and dripping on the floor in about 2 seconds. It was everywhere.

"OK" She says "I think we need to hold onto this a bit longer."

No shit, I'm thinking.

So she gets me to hold it for another 30 seconds or so and we repeat. Blood goes everywhere again.

We repeat this another 3 or so times before the very smart and capable nurse realises that my long sleeved top was bunched up around the top of my arm and acting as a tournequet.

Roll shirt down, all is well again.

Except that, as a result of seeeing my blood cover the floor, I was more woozy than ever and therefore not so hot on the motorskills.

The nurse cleaned me up as best as could be managed, but I still had smears of blood on my arm and was holding a small dressing in place on the site, the inside of my elbow.

I was instructed to hold my arm in the air and the dressing in place for about 5 mins, just to be sure that the bleeding had stopped, told to come back in a week for the results, and sent on my way.

So, there I am, stumbling along, holding my bloody elbow up in the air, pale as a sheet and completely dazed and confused.

In the junky part of town.

Of course I saw every teacher from my old school, every one of my parents friends and friends parents, basically eveyone sure to come to the obvious conclusion and start the gossip mill moving along. Lovely.

The best bit? I didn't have glandular fever anyway, it was all for nothing.
(misskitty reeks of sex and turpentine; laudanum afternoons, Fri 8 Aug 2008, 2:34, Reply)