Bear with me here for a second while I give some background for the post. As some here know, I work at a plasma donation center. This is similar to a blood bank in that we draw bodily fluids, but it differs in that we only keep the liquid portion of the blood (plasma). We then return the concentrated red blood cells to the donors, allowing them to be able to donate up to twice in seven days. In order to do this, we use a needle that's approximately 400 times the size of a needle you would get, say, for a tetanus shot. Well, after being an assistant manager (or "ass man" for all you Seinfeld people) here for a little over a year, I'm finally being trained on how to perform phlebotomy with these needles. (Phlebotomy, if you break down the word, means the opening of veins. Isn't it fun to use other languages to make words soud less graphic?) Anyway, when I was hired on here, I didn't know I'd actually have to train in this area. After all, managing a plasma center where phlebotomists work and actually becoming one yourself are two different things. Of course, since I was informed that I would have to do this training, I've been absolutely terrified. While the needles aren't really 400 times the size of the aforementioned tetanus needles, they are pretty big. To illustrate, needles come in gauges...kind of like shotguns. The needle you get at the doctors office for a shot is usually about a 25 gauge needle. Usually what they use to draw whole blood is about a 21 gauge. We use a 17 gauge needle. It's big enough that there are people who can't donate because their veins aren't big enough to hold the needle. Yeah.
So anyway, I didn't tell anyone outside of work that I was starting this training, because I was, as I mentioned, scared to death. I've donated plasma myself with no adverse consequences, but I have very large veins. But I've seen what happens to arms when a phlebotomist goes too far into a vein, or makes some other mistake. Usually it's fine, but it can get ugly. So the stage was set on Tuesday for me to start my training. It actually went really well. I even enjoy it to a certain degree. I like doing my own job all day better than I would like doing phlebotomy all day, but it's certainly easier than what I do (not that my job is brain surgery, mind you--it's just a lot more detailed). I only had one guy act like I was killing him, and I knew he was just being an idiot, so it was okay. He had a little scar tissue in the vein, because he had donated a lot. So when that happens you have to push a little harder to get the needle through. This was the first one that I had done with scar tissue, so when I hit the wall, I stopped for a second. He started whining and saying "Hema! Hema!" (He was saying I was giving him a hematoma, which is basically little more than just a bruise. He used to work in a hospital, so he was showing me all his knowledge by using an abbreviated version of the word.) But once I broke through the tissue, he shut up. He said, "Man, I was scared there for a minute." So I took the needle out of his arm and stabbed him in the eye. No I didn't.
Outside of work, things have been pretty busy, though I couldn't tell you why. It's just been one of those weeks where it always seems like I'm busy. Thus the lack of posting over the last few days. We seem to have a cat that comes and visits the house every now and then. He must belong to someone in the neighborhood, because he's not skinny or anything, and he's friendly. He scared the crap out of Jessica the other day when he came in under the fence in the back yard and started rubbing on her legs (she didn't see him coming). She called me out, and I took a picture of him lounging in the yard, which I will add to this post later. But he's been just showing up and wanting to come in the house recently. We came inside after the rubbing incident and went to the basement, and he started looking through the window and meowing at us. I don't know what his deal is.
In other news, as all married men know (at least by now), Mother's Day was this past Sunday. So before I share with you my Mother's Day adventures, let me first send out a belated Happy Mother's Day to all the moms and wives out there who put up with men and kids all day. I'll mention those who read (or possibly read) the blog: my wife, Jessica, my mom, Kristy, Kristen, and Amelia--Happy Mother's Day from Tha Docta. Also, if my mom carried out her threat to tell everyone she knows about my blog, Happy Mother's Day to any of you who I may or may not know. (Watergirl, I'll get you next year, right?)
Returning to my Mother's Day adventure, I need to give a little background here, too. My wife is difficult to shop for. This is not because I don't know what to get her. It's because there is not a moment that goes by when she doesn't know where I am. It's not because she's suspicious, mind you. She just likes to know what's going on at all times. So it's hard to get to the store without her knowing. Now, of course she knows when there's a gift coming. I haven't defaulted on a gift-giving occasion yet. It's just a matter of being low-key about it. I'll never mention anything about an upcoming gift-giving occasion, because it drives her crazy. (Going along with how she needs to know about what's going on, she wants to know if I'm remembering that a certain occasion is coming up.) Also, if she knows I've been shopping, she'll look for the present. The funny thing is, she doesn't want to find it. If she ever did, she'd be upset about it. Just some of the quirky things I love about my wife that I'm sharing with you.
So sometimes when something's coming up and I haven't mentioned it, this gets to be too much. Such was the case on Friday. We were driving, and she said, in her most tortured, needing-to-know voice, "Is there something hidden in the house for me?" (I must also say that my wife is not at all materialistic. It's just the information bug rearing its head again.) I, of course, didn't answer. I just smiled. Inside I was freaking out, because I knew Mother's Day was the next day, and I had no idea when I was going to get out without her knowing. Luckily for me, that night she fell asleep pretty early--around 9:00. So I headed out to "return a library book to the after-hours drop box". I was fortunate again, as her favorite store, Kohl's, was open until 10:00. So I went there and picked up a couple of things, and I thought I might try to find some flowers. Of course there are no florists open at 9:30 Saturday night (though they'd probably do some good business if they were open that late on that particular Saturday night), so I went to that one-of-a-kind, sell-you-anything merchant, Wal-Mart. I entered the store to the welcoming sight of half-dressed, mullet-wearing men with their equally-mulleted kids. They were all congregating around a table about two feet in diameter, which contained a few half-dead roses, and some arrangements of what looked to me like dandelions. It didn't take long for me to decide to forgo the flower idea for this year. Luckily, my wife didn't mind. She's great.
Song of the Day: "Me Too", by Toby Keith. This is another appearance of a country song for the song of the day. This one was one of "our songs" for my wife and myself. So in honor of Mother's Day, here it is.
9 years ago
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