Yesterday I had a blood test. These are an occupational hazard for the professional UC sufferer. Christ only knows how much of my blood they took when they were still struggling to decide if I had an IBD or not. I'm a pasty looking guy at the best of times, but back then I was really rocking that 'heroin-chic' look... Anyway despite pints and pints of the precious red stuff being taken I have barely been able to approach them with even an iota of courage or masculinity. God, I hate it so much. I'm not a 'fainter', as the phlebotomist so succinctly put it, but I am a 'can't-look-fist-biting-panicy-almost-tearful-big-girls-blouse'. So, what was special about yesterday? Well, originally I was asked by the rheumatologist to go for the blood test in April. Knowing my innate ability to 'forget' to do these things I went straight over to outpatients to get it done there and then. However, up the hospital its a take a ticket and wait your turn system. Disturbingly they use the same tickets as the Deli counter in Tesco. I guess there are only a few ticket distributing machines available on the market - but I think they ought to go out of their way to find a different one. I took my ticket and realised I was number 90. The sign said next up was 48. I waited as long as I could, sweaty-palmed, becoming more and more agitated, starting to hate everyone in front of me. It is not healthy to displace fear into sociopathy, so in the end I chickened out and ran away.
Now, I'm due back at the rheumotologist next tuesday hence I finally had to bite the bullet. But herein lies the point to this post. Locally we have something called a polyclinic. Usefully it's very close to my school. I phoned them. They do bloods by appointment only. So I made one (mentally that meant I HAD to go) and off I went at 9.55 for a 10.05 appt. I was there slightly early, no one else was there: they whisked me in, bled me and sent me on my way. I was back in school by 10.05. I didn't even have time to consider what was about to happen. Admitedly I still had the shakes, heart-rate was up, nurse asked me if I wanted to "lie down", but, bloody hell, I felt much better about the whole affair. So it's they polyclinic for me from now on. I highly recommend them (though I don't know if they are peculiar to this area).
Rituals of Loss
3 months ago