I went to have blood drawn this morning, because apparently that's my new hobby. I have the best veins ever for drawing blood. You know how on maps the big interstates are shown as thick, dark blue lines? That is pretty much what the insides of my elbows look like. I am also not at all bothered by needles or blood. Really, I am a dream patient; people have contests to see who is going to get to draw my blood.
Today, however, the woman who won had never even seen a needle before. After taking 10 minutes to set up, she finally got around to sticking me. She got blood, but unfortunately it was all pouring out of my arm rather than going into the needle. The solution to that is apparently to dig around trying to find the vein until the patient screams. When I finally mentioned that it was starting to hurt a fucking lot, she gave up, pulled out the needle, and flung my very own blood all the way down the leg of my khakis. My favorite part of the whole experience was when she handed me half of a balled-up paper towel to staunch the bleeding and then used a sterile wet wipe to try to clean my pants. I guess it's the thought that counts, right?
She then recruited the runner-up in the "who gets to stick Beth" contest and it was smooth sailing from there on out. I got a few strange looks when I returned to work with both arms bandaged and covered in bloodstains, but it is far from the strangest thing I have ever shown up wearing, so mostly people just took it in stride.
The moral of the story? The next time you are in this situation, be sure to ask a few questions first. For example, "Excuse me, but did my doctor happen to grab you off the street this morning and ask if you would like to make a few bucks by abusing her patients?"