Friday, January 22, 2010

Step Away From The Twat Zone Oh Crispy Fried Ponytail!

I took my blood test this week to see if I had gestational diabetes this time around and little did I know I was about to walk into an episode of Intervention.

It started out normal enough, I waited for the receptionist to hand me my 'tasty' glucose beverage. For those who haven't had the sheer pleasure of downing one of these liquid dreams, it's akin to drinking a Slurpee after it has sat inside a car in 100 degree weather. Truly a happy joy joy experience.

I got the orange flavored drink and was informed by the receptionist that I only had ten minutes to drink it; however, I downed that sucker in less than a minute. I gave her the empty bottle and she side-eyed me like I had dumped it down the drain. (Believe me, I was tempted). My apologies Ms. Receptionist, I didn't realize I had to put it in a wine glass, swish it around, inhale it and ponder if it's a light medium or full bodied glucose syrup. Why the hell would I take my time drinking that liquid sugar shit? *Dumb twat.

*please note this is a pregnant lady writing this blog post and while I may indeed project thoughts of death and carnage upon those who annoy me, I do so with a sweet sweet smile on my face for I am still yet a lady indeed. (stop laughing)

Afterwards, I had to let the orange syrup sit in my stomach for an hour before they drew my blood. Thankfully I found a recent copy of People and spent the hour wondering if Heidi Montag purposely spent thousands of dollars to look like a transsexual blow up doll.

Finally, a crazy looking chick popped her head out the door, called my name and looked around even though I was the ONLY ONE in the lobby. I stood up and acknowledged that yes indeedy, I'm the patient you're looking for, NOT that brown swivel chair you're eyeballing.

Something about this girl appeared 'off' to me and it wasn't because her hair was fried crispy blond and put up in a high, dry ponytail so her roots could take center stage, it was because even after I walked up to go in, she stood at the doorway and blocked my path. It seemed to me like she really WAS waiting for the brown swivel chair to follow her into the patient rooms. So finally I said, 'Yes, I'm ready to go." just to get her attention.

She looked at me, blinked, waited a few seconds and finally let me through the door.

Wierd. I secretly prayed that my regular nurse was back in the examination room and this was just some kind of greeter girl that walks the patients in. Crispy fried ponytail led me to the back room hesitantly, as if she didn't know where she was going and told me to have a seat. I peeked out from the corner of my eye and saw that she was gathering up the needles and pulling out my file. My regular nurse was nowhere to be found. Crap.

I was still holding out hope that my first impression of her was just me being harsh; however, within ten seconds of returning to the examination room, I was fully convinced this chick was under the influence of some extra strength, Lindsey Lohan brand type of Vicodin.

First, she asked me which arm 'they' usually draw blood from. (I assume by 'they" she meant the doctor, but with the way this chick was functioning, 'they' could have been secret agent Ninjas). Seeing as the examination table was against the wall and she couldn't even get to my left arm, I wondered why this question was necessary as I am fully equipped with blood filled veins on both arms. I told her the last time 'they' drew blood, it was from my left but I didn't mind if she took blood from my right arm.

She sat there and blinked at me for what seemed like an eternity. I was beginning to wonder if somehow my voice was on a west coast feed and her ears were on a east coast feed because it appeared as if there was a two minute delay from when I spoke to her and when she finally got what I was saying enough to respond.

HOly shartfucks batman! This woman in a half coma was going to prick me with a needle?? My palms immediately became fountains as she came at me with a needle. I looked away as she tapped my arm and stood there drooling, trying to find a vein. When she finally did find one, not surprisingly, she missed it. She blurted out a slurry 'oops, sorry,' fiddled the needle around and found what she was looking for. I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to beat her over the head with the gynecologist's specula.

After about five minutes but what seemed like hours, she managed to get my blood and actually put a band aid on my arm without falling asleep. She even tried to make light conversation with me but with the west coast/east coast delay going on in her head, it was the most painful conversation I've ever had to endure.

Wasted as Fuck Nurse: "Soooo...where are you going after thish?"
Me: "Oh I'm just going to pick up my daughter from school."

2 minute delay...she blinks really slowly.

Wasted as Fuck Nurse: (finally processes in what I'm saying) "Ooooh. Yeah...yeah...I remember those days..."

WTF? I was willing to bet my imaginary left testicle that the nurse didn't even remember her own name. I still don't know if that nurse was high, sleepy or just slow, but I was so anxious to get out of there I almost forgot to schedule my next appointment - an important one since this is the appointment I get to find out the sex of the baby. Whoo!

If for some reason the doctor is out next month and I see Ms. Crispy fried ponytail nurse wobbling towards my crotch, I'm grabbing the dildo cam and doing it myself.

5 comments:

Geolyn said...

LOL! oh hell nawww!! there's no way i woulda let that bitch near my veins with a needle!!

kim said...

What is it with weirdos who draw blood?!

The Gilles Family said...

You're a stronger woman than I, my friend! I would have hightailed it out of there BEFORE she put the needle in my arm. But I'm a complete wimp.

Can't WAIT for your next appointment! :)

Karen said...

That was too funny!

GinaLicious said...

This is too funny! Ummm...would I be a twat if I confessed that I actually liked the orange glucose bottle of yumminess????