Day 28 — If I could do one thing that is socially unacceptable and know I would not be judged, I would…
In the past few years I’ve had blood drawn over 10 times. Every time I walk into the facility I am overcome with dread, a racing pulse, and anxiety. I try to politely chat with the phlebotomist while squelching the urge to punch her in her perky face by taking deep, calming breaths.
One summer day I sat in the waiting room with a toddler. For the 15-minutes we shared the waiting room I listened to his parents spread their filthy lies about how it wasn’t going to hurt but it might feel a like a bee sting (Well, bee stings effing hurt so what’s your point?!) and try to bribe his cooperation with promises of ice cream and video games (Keep talking, People…we’ve got a ways to go before I will consider beginning negotiations). Then his number was up, they took him to the back, and reminded him exactly what bee stings feel like. I sat proudly in the waiting room applauding the little guy as I listened to him kicking and screaming and chuckled at the out of breath attempts to placate him coming from his
captors parents. Well done, little dude! Make them work for it!!
Man, what I wouldn’t give for it to be socially acceptable to have a tantrum like that while I’m getting my blood drawn.