This is the code we use at work for a stabbing victim; which is what I felt like the other day when I went down to Magnet for a routine STD test.1 I get signed in and go to the back to face the obligatory interrogation as to why I’m there. No worries, as I know all to well the burden placed on the City’s healthcare system. We make it thru the throat swab and the “bend and spread’em” swab problem free. I mean how hard is it to fuck up a swab test? Then comes the very minor, one would think, routine blood draw to test for the ugly-headed monster called syphilis. Forgetting for a moment, both of my arms are very vascular,2 the phlebotomist managed to stab completely thru a large vein. Naturally, I end up with a large hematoma afterwards. (Simply put, blood collecting under the skin) If you’ve never had one, the blood quickly dissipates however, it tends to be very unsightly and causes pain days later from the surrounding muscle tissue being irritated. So now, I look like Farrah Faucet in the ‘Burning Bed’ after she’d been thoroughly beaten by her husband. Lord, I know they don’t get paid a lot to do that job but, asking for a minute amount of competence is not pushing it in my opinion. And the real kicker was this was not the first time! It also happened on my previous pilgrimage. I wrote a stinging letter to the City Health Director as well as the Clinic Director. I guarantee you next time I go back it won’t happen again.
I called off work today. For a variety of reasons, I was not in my “happy place” and work would have been a disaster had I gone in. I did finally use the down time to get the laundry done. I don’t honestly know why I have such a mental block when it comes to laundry. I wonder if it stems from my childhood. I know, you are probably going “childhood? WTF?” Well, once when I was about 3 or 4 years old my father locked me in the dryer and turned it on for about a minute. You see, I used to climb in our dryer and hide. I had been warned countless times not to do it so I guess he thought he’d teach me a lesson. It worked too. I never ever played in the dryer again after that. No, I don’t seriously think it’s related but it is an odd coincidence don’t ya think?
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In other news, my friend Matthew, who just moved to SF, got a temp. job working for a porn company. No, not as an actor or a fluffer, he is a grunt. In regular movie terms, he’d be a grip. He is all excited and couldn’t stop talking about it today over lunch. The most pressing issue on his mind was what to wear. Bless his heart. I’m sure it sounds exciting but when you actually do it, it isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. Well, from my point of view anyway. However, I am rather jaded as I live with a porn star who I have known practically all of my adult life. And lets face it, you can’t shake a stick w/o bumping into a rising star here. (pun intended) He is getting paid a fair share for his efforts so there is a positive aspect to it. And moving from Oklahoma City to SF, I can certainly understand his excitement.
2 A misappropriation of the word referring to large veins close to the surface of the skin.
So, not much of a porn industry in Oklahoma City? I’m sure they’ve got some of those hot farm boys out there. Sorry about the black arm…….and good luck on the tests. And, by the way, what does one wear to work on a porn set?
I understand that not everyone can be good at what they do, but people that come at you with a large pointed needle should be. My future ex-wife is an excellent phlebotomist. I’ve seen her take blood from people and they are waiting for her to begin when she is already done. Find a new clinic.
Ah…nothing like city workers! And I am not putting you in that group my friend. There are good working people out there but on the otherhand, there are a number that are below mediocre even. So many of the city workers just don’t give a sh*t. I had so many run-ins with the local courts, the dept of health, the city dept of engineering, when I was doing insurance claims. I’ll leave it at that.
Sounds like it’s time for that flea-bitten phlebotomist (always wanted to say that) to give up that day-job.
I recently went to my GP here in Sydney to have blood drawn for a metabolic and lipid profile. Much to my surprise, he whipped out the rubber tourniquet and plunged the needle into my vasculation before I could object to the fact that he hadn’t swabbed me or put on gloves. I think I was too stunned to say anything. Healthcare down under is, uh, different.