Lashes and Lab Coats

You know you've been in the hospital too long when you've repeatedly accidentally referred to it as "home," and actually find yourself sleeping well there.

There hasn't been a whole lot going on the past couple of days, thankfully, so I've really had some time to make some casual observations. One of these came last night, when I had my blood drawn right before bed as part of a routine the blood bank does for me every few days. It's worth noting that they claim they are storing my blood (though they have to toss it after a few days, and thus the re-drawing), but they're only collecting like 3 test tubes worth. I'm not sure how that will actually help me if I need it, but what do I know?

So around midnight, my nurse came in with two 20-somethings on blood drawing duty. It was too many people to be in my room at that hour, and I wondered what they were all doing there. Then it became immediately apparent that one of the 20-somethings was in training. Oh...no. PLEASE tell me she is not about to learn how to draw blood on me, because for real, I'm going to have to stop her dead in her tracks if she comes near me.

Concerned, I observe them more closely and eavesdrop on their conversation, which is vacillating between the previous night out at the club and the steps involved in drawing and collecting blood. I learned during this conversation that the blood bank "sometimes be trippin'" if you don't put the patient labels on the tubes totally straight. I then watched as they spent an unusual amount of time on this task.

I took a closer look at both of the 20-somethings. The trainee looked like what you'd expect someone on the blood drawing night shift to look like - and that's not a bad thing. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, she wore glasses, and her makeup was minimal to none. Then there was the instructor...

You know what you probably don't need to wear when your job is to draw blood from hospital patients at midnight? False eyelashes. And I mean like J-Lo mink eyelashes as pictured above. I was completely distracted by the animals hanging off her eyelids, and the odd match this made with her white lab coat.

Thankfully, the trainee only applied labels to tubes and put a new wristband on me. The eyelashed one performed the actual blood draw, though I have no idea how she could see my veins through the window shades on her eyes. But much to my surprise, she was really good at it, not even wasting time on that whole, "1-2-3 deep breath" nonsense that is inevitably followed by aggressive stabbing. So do not judge a book by its cover.

Meanwhile, I have some disturbing breaking news. If you recall last week's post about the disposable underwear, I said that Brad and I were on a quest to collect as many packs of these as possible and hide them away as the valuable commodities they are. Well, Brad just went out to ask the nurse for a couple of packs, and she handed them over - but not before politely explaining to him that these are not disposable, and in fact are supposed to just be hand washed in the sink, hung over the shower to dry, and re-worn. WHAT???? They want me to re-wear these gauzy, white briefs they fondly refer to as "Vicky's Secret" after a 12-hour period has passed? And what do they do with these after I am done with them?? Is that the damn secret?

Oh HELL to the no.