Wednesday, October 12, 2011

They say the hearing is the first to go.

I was supposed to get labs drawn one morning and although I could think of nothing better to do with my time than chatting it up with a phlebotomist about the weather and why she can or can not get a vein, I ended up on the computer and watching Rachael Ray. God love her. She loves to cook with smokey bacon.

I've met some super nice phlebotomisits. (For some reason today, I like to say that word. Is that not a cool word? Just rolls off the tongue.) There was the friendly Diane who always wore the fun, printed smock and smelled faintly of Virginia Slims (and Certs to try to cover it up for the patient.)  Then there was Susan, who had the knee issues, but could probably get a vein if I were hanging upside down on the monkey bars, and Peggy, who, bless her heart, would move the tourniquet, tell me to squeeze the red ball, and thump, thump, thump 'til her thumb was blue, then give up and call in Susan.

(And, in case you are wondering, I am not ill or fighting off any chronic disease. I am on a routine medication which requires labs several times a year. But, thanks for caring, peeps.)

Needleless to say (sorry) I have had many experiences in the lab.  The good thing is, I'm not afraid of needles. 

I usually sit there calmly and chat it up with the lab techs.  Because of that, I learned an insiders tip to that weird chair we all have to sit in.

You know the one?  It is always too high, making my feet kind of dangle to the floor, and it has that little arm that folds down in front of you like you are getting on an amusement park ride.  I always thought that little arm that folds down was for you to put your own arm out for them to stick.  Nope, it's not.

On one of my many visits a tech asked me if I was squeamish, afraid of needles, or got light-headed. I told her "no," I was fine with needles.  That's when she told me that the little arm that folds down is there to hold you up in case you pass out. She said some people do actually faint and that they put the arm down because they "can't really catch you from hitting the floor while they are holding a needle in your arm."

I'm glad safety is a priority, aren't you?

She began to describe the various patients she had helped who were genuinely scared or freaked out and that's when I was glad that the only thing that makes me squeamish is snakes.

So, if you are one of those people, bless your heart.

Wow. This is a long and boring post about needles.

Fast forward to when I actually got to the lab which was the following day.

The sweet tech called my right back, asked me my name and date of birth.  We laughed about how I had the exact same birthday as her dad which prompted her to share a story about when they celebrated his birthday at Disney World and how her mom bought him some mouse ears.  (See, I like to chat with phlebotomists.  Okay, last time I use that word, but... cool, right?)

There was a patient sitting next to me, also in a safety seat with her feet kinda dangling. She said,"Wow! SHE is getting a lot of tests done!"  I looked down and there were three vials there.  The lab tech didn't comment and I just laughed it off. I think the other patient was nervous.

Within seconds the tech was done, handed me the little cotton ball and said, "Hold pressure, please."

I did and waited for my little strip of bandage tape as I heard her say,"Want some blood thinners?"

Puzzled, I frowned a bit and asked,"Why would you ask me that?"

"I'm not being nosey, ma'am. I just have to ask.  It's for your own safety.  You know, aspirin, coumadin.."

I laughed out loud.  That's when I realized what she really said was, "Are you ON blood thinners?"

I told her about my misunderstanding and she (and the patient next to me) both laughed.

"Oh, no ma'am.  I wasn't offering them to you.  I bet you were thinking you were going to report me as soon as you left."

I said,"Well, I was wondering if it was some new kind of lab technique. I thought 'wow, that's new." 

The three of us laughed while she prepared to work with the next patient and I grabbed my purse to prepare to leave. I walked out, certain that she had a story for her colleagues the rest of the day.

It seems that little folding arm on the chair may help you keep from falling to the floor in case you faint, but it does absolutely nothing for your hearing.

Monday, October 10, 2011

I Got You, Babe

I was on the phone with a friend the other day and asked her how things were going.

"Groundhog Day," she said,"Every day is Groundhog Day."

I know how she feels.

Except for the Sonny and Cher song waking me up every morning.

And, you know, that I'm not Bill Murray.

The monotony of routine is getting to me.  Every morning I wake up after hitting snooze at least three times, get coffee, let out dog (who I have to walk in the yard in my robe because our fence isn't up yet, but that is another story) put waffles in toaster, wake up Daughter, check waffles, WAKE UP DAUGHTER, throw on clothes, drive to school, hoist instrument out of car, drive home, go for a walk/run, and so on.

It says a lot about your day when the highlight is the 30 minutes that you take a jog around the neighborhood.

Yes, I know. Me. Running!  FOR FUN. 

Let me tell ya, that was a wake up call. So, now I have to figure out a way to make things not so groundhoggish, if that is a word, which I am pretty sure it's not.

I gotta mix it up a bit, bloggy peeps.  Maybe even get jiggy with it.

What about you? Are you feeling like it's Groundhog Day?

And what is the highlight of your day? Surely it's not running.

Do share! 

Monday, October 03, 2011

Swift Justice and Skinny Jeans

Fall is in the air here in the Sunshine State. As soon as there was the whisper of a cool breeze, I ran out to the store to get my fall candle. (So, I didn't really run, I drove and then walked through the mall to Hallmark.) The movers won't pack candles, or at least won't pack some of them.  For some reason they packed some of my jar candles, but they all smell like cherries, the ocean, or Christmas trees.

This reminds me. I really need to update my profile. According to the right margin of my blog, I still live in SmallTown, New Mexico.  I actually live in MediumTown, Florida, so I need to get with it and change my information because I am all about full disclosure here on the blog (which is why my husband is Hubs and my daughter is Daughter. Not only honest and factual, but totally original.)

If I sound like I'm rambling it's because I am.

This weekend flew by.  (More rambling)

Saturday was spent helping Daughter with a homework project, making sure it was proofread and printed, doing laundry, going to horseback riding, and checking out a new Wal-mart.  I live in MediumTown and I still end up at Wal-mart at least once a week. 

We went to church on Sunday (missed Sunday School, yet again) and then headed home to change and go shopping for school clothes because the child, she is growing.

Justice was on my list of stores to hit.  They have everything in the store, EVERYTHING IN THE STORE 40% off (according to the huge sign) which meant we needed to stock up on jeans. I only shop Justice during a sale. I have issues with purchasing things at Justice for full price when I know I can get the exact same scented tee shirt and hoodie at Old Navy for half the price.

All girls love Justice, which used to be called Limited Too. For reasons unknown the company suddenly got all fancy and changed the name, which I don't get.

More rambling.

Honestly, I don't know how they came up with the name, "Justice." Apparently,  girls are falling victim to fashion crimes and now they have to visit a store full of rainbow papasan chairs and slap bracelets so that the twenty-something clerk wearing jeans that need to be hemmed and worn out flip flips can swiftly declare a legal decision with her pink, fuzzy gavel.

Or maybe, you know, not.

Other than the name and the prices, my only other complaint is the music.  They play the same songs over and over.  I learned from the clerk in the unhemmed jeans and flip flops that the soundtrack is the same ten songs played again and again.  It makes me want to shop very quickly, which is usually not beneficial to the retailer.

By the time we had found some jeans that fit, I told Daughter, "We have to leave before that song plays again or I'm gonna pull my hair out." 

It's a good thing everything in the store was 40% off. EVERYTHING IN THE STORE.

Maybe Justice should take lessons from Old Navy in prices and music choices. Although, I don't get their name either. 

Old Navy.  Was there ever a New Navy?