Ken Doll the Phlebotomist
I had the blood test from hell today.
As part of their monitoring my thyroid, they have me get blood tests done every three months. Basically they’re monitoring my thyroid stimulating hormone levels to see if there are any drastic changes, which could signal hyperthyroidism (right now I just have a “high functioning” thyroid) or cancer.
So I go in to get my blood drawn today, which of course I hate. Well wadda ya know, there’s a beautiful man who is going to do it. He looked like a Ken Doll, hence I’ll refer to him as Ken the Phlebotomist.
After the basic small talk and me warning him of my hatred for blood and needles while he flashes his award-winning smiling, he says the words I dreaded the most “Alright, so I’m in training …”
He tried to get a blood sample from the inside of my left arm, and that didn’t work. So his supervisor came over to do it in the right arm, but of course my vein was uncooperative and they were only able to get 3 out of the 4.5 vials they need. And since the supervisor was doing it, he decided to say out loud step by step what he was doing, including narrating the needle’s path into my vein. I must’ve groaned or something because the supervisor asked if everything was ok to which I responded “You said the ‘n’ word.”
I know, I’m a huge baby. They gave me crackers and juice before making me lay down and re-sticking my right left to get the rest of the blood.
My arms look like I’m a heroin addict and no, I didn’t ask Ken the Phlebotomist for his number. I took my crackers and ran.
