Last Thursday, for the first time in months, the nurse was able to draw blood from my port! I did not do anything different. I did not even remember to drink anything beforehand. It was so great not to be poked another time!
The previous Thursday was more typical. When the nurse could not draw blood, she sent me with the vial to get blood drawn from my arm. I asked why there was only one vial, as all the other times I had two. She insisted that was all that was written in my chart. What did I know? I trusted her judgement.
At least the doctor who is good at drawing blood was back. Just as he withdrew the needle from my one good vein, the woman who overseas the study I am in asked "where is the other vial?"! The nurse was wrong!! I had to get poked again, this time in my hand. It hurt (not much, but who wants any pain?). I had a bruise on the back of my hand for a week!
The first time I came in for chemo, I was introduced to R, my friend who works at Tel Shilo. She told me that I would get so used to being poked by needles that, eventually, I would not even notice. I did not believe her, having developed a life-long aversion to them! In the end, she was right. It does not really phase me any more.
Still, I do not really want to get stuck any more than absolutely necessarily. I was really annoyed, because I suspected that something was missing and had asked the nurse. I was frustrated by her error, and by my having been intimidated to question her further. It will not happen again.
At least not about this issue....
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
A New Definition of Poor Taste
2 hours ago