I was overwhelMED with what seeMED like an unwelcoMED obligation. But now, the DOCumentation is done. I may not have been DOCile, but I was taMED.
Explanation: I'm putting in my papers to go on a mission for the Mormon church, and part of that process requires that I get a doctor to sign off on a bunch of things to basically state I am healthy. It should be one question with two check boxes, right?
HEALTHY Yes ___ No__
But instead, it consists of a bunch of words that I may or may not understand, and most definitely can't pronounce.
Quick Question: when was the last time you had your amylace tested?
You get the picture. So here's the story.
Weight For Me
I'm not sure how this slipped through the cracks of my blog subjects, but I have recently finished an intense three week food cleanse. Bottom line, "cleanse" is not "diet" and my doctor rounded my weight UP on the missionary sheet.
Taking Shots.....Mormon Style
You know that you're in for a treat when the person giving you shots is less than a month older than you are, and keeps dropping the needle. How did I know how old she was? It was her birthday today. Granted, I should cut her some birthday slack, but it still made me a little antsy that it took her 40 seconds to successfully open a band-aid. She gave me a flu shot, and TB test (yes, this requires a needle) that I have to get read in 48-72 hours (so if you happen to be a doctor.....) I'm not really sure if she did it right, but until my arm goes numb and develops a weird bump I'm going to assume yes. The main complaint was that there were no colored band-aids. Shot-giving blasphemy.
a faint smell of blood
Now we're getting to the good stuff. AFTER I had gotten two needles poked into me that I didn't expect, I was informed that I would have to get my blood drawn.
This was not a happy moment.
I went obediently down to the chamber of horror, which was cleverly disguised as a health lab. The masquerade went so far as to dare to play Christmas music in the waiting room.What kind of sick (no pun intended) place was this?
When my name was called and I entered the room of doom, I saw the nurse.
Real conversation between HOPE and NURSE
NURSE: Hello! I'm the one who's going to draw you today
HOPE: Are you a good artist?
I guess my humor is lost on people who make others cry for a living. Or maybe laughing makes veins constrict.
I kid, she was actually very pleasant. And when she couldn't find a vein, the girl she brought in to help her was equally pleasant.
Apparently, I have veins so small that they have to use a baby needle on me. and not baby as in "small" baby as in the same needle they use on actual babies. No wonder they cry so much, that thing takes forever to draw blood!
somewhere in this 40 minute---yes FORTY MINUTE endeavor, when they were poking around for a vein, I started to feel very woooooooooooosy, and my vision did a little of this
and I thought that I might but as there was no prince charming to catch me, I decided to tell them to take the needle out of my arm instead. which they promptly did, and then layed me down while I fought nausea.
When I was recovered, the second nurse tried again, trying to pin down my "roll-y veins" and when she finally finally got one, I made her tell me the story of her first kiss, which was actually quite funny.
And they all drove woozily ever homeward,