If a cow ever got the chance...

I had to go back to the acupuncture clinic today. [I think everyone who reads this diary has been reading it for awhile, so you probably know what I'm talking about--if not, I'm sorry. I don't like it when people's entries aren't self-contained, but I don't want to keep giving you the same stupid link...] Anyway, it was just for a blood draw, one vial of blood for them to run tests on--simple, right?

The first problem was that we were all milling around randomly in the same classroom where they'd done the intake study--six fat people and two of their significant others, two people in white coats who I think were running the study, a couple teenage-looking chicks who seemed to be affiliated with the school in some way, a couple older women whose nametags said "Doctor," and three or four other women who were the ones actually taking the blood. I'm not exaggerating. There were way too many people in there and their functions were not being adequately explained. They had juice and cookies on a table, which was thoughtful because we had all been on a 12-hour no-food-or-water fast, but we couldn't eat or drink until after our blood was taken. (I can deal with no food, but 12 hours without water is a BIG problem.)

Well, the first chick sat down (and I missed this because I was sort of buzzy and light-headed), but after about five minutes I spaced back in and realized that she was STILL in the chair, and they were talking about how the test tubes might be defective, and trying the other arm, and there wasn't any blood coming out... They get another chick started in another chair, and (I am attentive now) get HALF a vial of blood out of her before "the vein stopped working." Which they don't think is going to be enough for their testing purposes, so they have her sit back down next to the juice to rest a minute, and it's my turn.

I am not too relaxed at this point. Even less so when I see that there are paper towels crumpled up ON THE FLOOR with the second chick's blood on them. A paper bag from Starbucks is produced and the towels are dropped into it. I am trying desperately to keep track of all the equipment being used, to see where it's coming from and who is picking it up--yes, they're wearing surgical gloves, and I would hope they are using absolutely pristine never-used needles, but keep in mind that I am not a nurse or a junkie and don't know how a bad needle would look different from a good one, and there are at least SIX people hovering around me at this point and I can't tell who is doing what, one of them is labeling the other chick's blood vial and who was it that picked up the bloody paper towels anyway and did she change her gloves after she did that, and in the middle of this, they wrap that awful rubber strap around my arm and stick the needle in, right arm, and, nothing. No blood. I am fighting not to ask if they're sure they're doing it right, because this has never happened to me before. (I have lovely thin-walled virginal veins that bleed at a moment's notice.) But we all stare at the test tube which is not filling, then they decide they'll try the other arm. Nothing. Then my left hand which has a good vein at the third knuckle. Nothing. I am hyperventilating at this point. I am trying not to be a bitch, because I really don't know anything about how to take blood. Maybe the test tubes ARE defective. I mean, in any case, they're not doing it on purpose. The head person says "Now her veins have collapsed," and to me, nicely (they were all really nice), "Are you scared, that usually only happens when you're scared..." and I say loudly "NO, I'm THIRSTY," because when I'm scared I regress to my three-year-old self, and they let me sit back down to rest for a minute, next to the juice and the chick who only produced half a vial of blood. I want to leave at this point but I am sort of invested in doing this study and learning about acupuncture and losing weight for free, without having to ex*rcise or eat 1200 calories a day! Plus, none of the other study subjects seem unduly disturbed. So when they call me, I go back and sit in the chair again. They decide to try my right arm, same vein as before but a slightly different spot. Nothing. A clear test tube. It looks like there's water at the bottom, have they rinsed it out or something? I have completely lost track of where this tube and this needle have come from. The fourth or fifth try: a vein on the back of my right hand. Finally, the tube fills with blood, dark red and sludgy. Everyone sighs with relief. They apologize for all the trouble, nicely. I say "That's OK," but am unable to be convincing. Once the band-aid is on, I stagger over to the table and drink four glasses of orange juice.

Okay, so this is the story, and it is making me nervous, very nervous. I mean, what the hell was going on? Was the equipment defective? Am I overreacting? Do I have hepatitis B now? Were they incompetent? Am I a bitch? Was there anything wrong with that at all?

I guess I'll go back for the acupuncture. The first treatment, anyway. I want to at least see what it's like... But that blood draw did not inspire confidence. There are bruises and little punctures all over my arms. On the el I kept thinking someone should ask me if I'm "holding anything." And there's this little voice in the back of my head telling me that I broke a promise I made a few years ago: that I would not allow myself to be hurt by anyone. That I would always take good care of myself and do what's best for me, the way my mom did for my grandpa after his stroke. That I would trust my instincts. But how am I--confirmed hypochondriac, with a bizarre phobia about blood donation (though oddly, not about needles themselves)--supposed to even know what those instincts are?

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