"Jinxer"

It was that day again ...

You know, the one where I have to set my alarm, get up before the sun, risk my life and limb snapping photos as I toodle along the Tollway, with the final outcome:

Trudging tiredly through the back door with a Walgreens bag full of enough opiates to kill a herd of buffalo ...


Yeah - that day ...


Which, oddly enough, today ... started last night! Was at a church activity for the 10 and 11 year old girls in my church. After, headed home and making the first turn into my subdivision, I remembered that I would be driving to the doctors in the morning and quickly glanced down at the gas gauge. I sighed with relief. I had an eighth of a tank, more than PLENTY to get me there - thus no turning around and getting it right then. I was tired, sticky from making strawberry jam with enthusiastic 10 and 11 year olds (they can really get out of control with a vat of strawberries and a potato masher ...) and then standing in the heat 'girl-wrangling' and 'frog chasing' and 'photo taking' and 'parent waiting' until I started getting nauseous. So making a U-turn and filling up my tank - standing in that stifling heat and humidity AND getting high (and more nauseous) on gas fumes was more than I could do right then.

Set my alarm for 6:00 because I was negligent and had not filled out my 25 page 'Pain Control' questionnaire nor had I transferred my week of tracking my pain into the booklet - would have to do it in the morning.

Thursday: 6:00 am:

Got up, finished my 'Pain Control' booklet, but it took a bit longer than I expected, so I was rushing out of the house about 10 minutes later than I was comfortable with. I have serious issues with being late. Especially with a person who is going to stop my pain for a month IF I show up on time - she is super busy and has a sign that they reserve the right to 'give away' my appointment if I am late, which keeps me arriving at least 15 minutes early more often than not.

In the car, turn out of the subdivision and pull up to the light to wait for a spot to turn.

Car: "Ding, Ding, Ding. Low fuel"

Lori: "Yeah, right you psychotic little freak ... I'm on an incline. DON'T SCARE ME LIKE THAT! I am running late."

I am not worried - I saw the gauge - it was on the full'ish side of 1/8th last night ... no problemo.

Five minutes later:

Car: "Ding, Ding, Ding. Low fuel"

Lori: "WHA!!! HEY! You CANNOT be serious. YOU HAD AN EIGHTH OF A TANK LAST NIGHT! WHAT DID YOU DO WHILE I WAS SLEEPING?"

Car: " "

Lori: "Crap"

I realize that the only gas station I know of was right across the street from the first time my car dinged at me.

Have you seen that survey of mine in Facebook: '25 Random Things About Me'?

Number 15: "Have a pathological fear of running out of gas"

Hoping for a gas station right up the road at the on ramp for the Tollway - I keep driving.

Nope! Not a station in sight.

I am now in a bit of a panic. Get on the Tollway and continue on to my doctor. Somewhere in the logical part of my brain, I tell myself that it JUST RANG! I have some time. I decide to stop on the way so I won't slide into a full blown panic attack. Calmly tell myself that I will exit at Dairy Ashford - surely they will have a gas station and the exit after that is an on ramp to Beltway 8 so just concrete ramps everywhere - not a place to get off and find a gas station.

Car: "Ding. Ding. Ding. Low Fuel"

Lori: "Soon! We are almost to Dairy Ashford ....
.... and there goes Dairy Ashford!"


Realize that it has an exit heading out of Downtown, but does not have an exit heading toward Downtown. Learn something new every day ...

Keep driving, with my car getting more and more insistent that it was going to die any second ...

The Ding's getting more and more insistent, and the time between Ding! Ding! Ding!'s is decreasing ...

A lifetime in my time but a mere 20 minutes later we were exiting and pulling into a gas station! Somewhere in my mind I found it hysterically funny that I had to physically peel myself out of the car. I had been so tense that I had been holding the steering wheel with my arms locked in a particular position and same with my back and legs. When it came time to extricate myself from the car, I literally could not move for a few minutes without excruciating pain - frustrating when you are in a hurry!

Got most of a tank (I hate to admit this, but I actually told myself I only had two minutes to get gas, and TIMED IT, thus not a full tank - yeah, not weird at all ....). Back in the car and zipped the rest of the way to the doctors WAAAAAAAAY more relaxed!

The appointment went fine, which is not exactly the norm, so I was making up for a bad start to the day. In and out relatively quickly! Still tallying points on the plus side ... at this rate I would soon break even for the day!

Take my lab slip and down to the lab for the blood draws. NOT my favorite thing. You would think after years and years of this, that it would be getting easier, but for some reason TOTALLY inconceivable to me it is getting more and more difficult each time. I am what they call a 'hard stick' thus not easy to get blood out of me so it does not help that now I have started getting dizzy while they do it. I remember the day when I could WATCH them do it without even flinching.


I believe this is not a good sign ...



Phlebotomist: Shouting from somewhere I cannot see: "Be with you in a minute!"

Lori: "OK, thanks!"

Minutes later I am seated ...

The phlebotomist is unfamiliar to me:

Lori: "I am a hard stick. They usually use a butterfly right on this tiny vein here and have pretty good success." (I am pointing to my right hand at a vein an inch down from the web between my pinkie and the next finger over - weird, but it works)

Phlebotomist: "OK, we will see how things go ..."

She is gathering the stuff she will need: alcohol, cotton balls, vials, and NOT a butterfly needle ...

Lori: "Really, it works great, it is good for about 4 tubes before it collapses and you only need three ..."

Phlebotomist: "Hmmm: She flicks the crook of my arm, pokes, prods, pokes some more, takes off the big rubber band off my arm and ties it to my wrist. Yes! Going for the hand! And WHO SAYS medical personnel don't listen to the patient anymore?

She runs the alcohol in the TOTALLY WRONG place. I see where she is headed ...

Lori: "Um, they usually don't go for that big one - it rolls."

Phlebotomist: "Big stick here ..."

Lori: "Seriously ..."

Phlebotomist: "Hmmmm, It rolled ..."

Lori: "Sigh"

She puts gauze over it and tells me to apply pressure.

Phlebotomist: "You are my first stick of the day ... you JINXED me!"

Lori: "Excuse me?" (Thinking: "WHAT! ARE YOU INSANE? I TOLD YOU IT WOULD ROLL!")

Phlebotomist: "I said you jinxed me. I will probably be off the rest of the day."

Lori: ... is TOTALLY speechless ... all I can do is blink at her ...

She prepares again ... and I am thinking NOW she will get her act together ... it's the Pollyana in me ...

Phlebotomist: "OK, hold really still, big stick ..."

Lori: "HEY! YOU ARE GOING IN THE 'OUCH' SAME VEIN! OWWWWW!"

Now with the poking and the prodding ...

Phlebotomist: "Well, I thought I had it."

Lori: "I don't 'OUCH!' think this is working - if you keep prodding you will just poke through the other side ... 'OUCH!' ... I think you ..."

Phlebotomist: "I think I ..."

In Unison: "... poked through the other side."

Phlebotomist: "Well, that is surely going to leave a bruise!"

Lori: (through gritted teeth) "Yeah. Is there someone else here that can help?"

Phlebotomist: "No, and now I am SURE you jinxed me, I have sort of lost my confidence."

Lori: "Ummmm" (Thinking: "SHIT!")

Phlebotomist: "Well, lets give it one more try ..."

Lori: "I REALLY, REALLY insist you try the vein I showed you with a butterfly needle. REALLY."

I was thinking that I would try doing it myself just to get away from her if I hadn't discovered the 'creepiness' of doing that. Once, when I had my central line in (a 'semi'permanent tube inserted into a vein to give yourself IV's and whatnot), I went in to the lab for blood draws and asked the phlebotomist why she had to stick me when I had a freaking tube sticking out of my chest that surely if stuff went IN to my bloodstream - SURELY it could come OUT ... She told me that she was not allowed to do it, but if I wanted to do it myself, that would be fine. I cleaned the port, attached a syringe and began sucking stuff out of my chest tubie, and quickly discovered that while I was always shoving stuff in the tube, sucking blood out of myself was not the same ... a bit unsettling. I made it, collecting all 4 tubes without passing out, but was embarrassed that I had to put my head between my knees after I was done ... such a wimp!

SO ...


One more try, with blood oozing out of the big, mangled vein - sort of like when you poke a second hole in a container - helps TREMENDOUSLY with the flow ...

AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW!?! Sticks the butterfly in, hits the vein, collects her vials ...

Phlebotomist: "Well, would you look at that! We should have tried this sooner!"

Lori: ... beyond words .... (Seriously want to slug her)

She is done, I pop up faster than a Jack-in-the-Box and grab my purse, headed out the door.

Phlebotomist: "Hey!"

I turn back grudgingly.

Phlebotomist: "Maybe you didn't jinx me after all ..."

*sigh*

Note the freaking PILE of prescriptions on the seat ...


*sigh*