Tuesday 3 April 2007

A good friend.

Just read a friend's blog. She's a good girl - she donates blood! I am kind of jealous as I too would like to do it. But here's the problem: I don't like needles, at all! In fact, the thought of having one in my arm makes me hyperventilate. I don't mind injections as such even though whatever it is that's in it might sting a bit. It's the blood thing and seeing it oozing out into those little containers when they take bloodsamples makes my skin crawl and not to mention seeing the nurses prepare it all...

I've tried to look away when they prepare everything but it doesn't help. Then they put that tourniquet around the arm and that isn't very nice either. But the worst thing is when they use that nasty smelling tissue-thing to "clean the area". And the feeling when the needle goes in... it's nauseating and it makes me lightheaded, I get ringing in my ears and then.....pooof! I'm out.

And when I wake up, I have my feet somewhere near the ceiling (I'm so glad I don't wear skirts very often!) and someone's stroking my forehead asking: "Are you alright?" Of course I'm not bloody alright! I've just fainted from a silly little procedure and a procedure that you weren't smart enough to finish while I was out off it! (Oh, if thought and looks could kill)

I didn't faint last time I had to give blood but I think that was because I was so ill anyway and and couldn't care less but nurse who did it was really good. Those days I had to spend at the hospital when I was ill was probably really good for me. I had to have a cannula in my arm the whole time (they make massive holes!!) as I had to have extra fluids and the fact that they stuck needles in my throat and used a scalpel (no local anaesthetic) to cut the quincy open made me think I was no longer freakishly afraid of hospitals.

Or so I thought...

Last night we went to WasabiSabi (a Japanese restaurant) and it was lovely as always. On our way home, Boyfriend said he needed to swing by the hospital to get his stethoscope and as the road we parked on isn't the cosiest looking road, I decided to come with him. We walked in, I shuddered a little, we walked downstairs towards "his" ward and the theatres, I focused on the stairs, and then we were there... I stepped into the corridor and stood there for about 60 seconds before I headed back out to the stairs again. Oh, the smell! It smells just like the stuff they use before stabbing you with a needle. "But Ems, it doesn't smell down here!"

Oh yes it does, you're just used to it, you freak! So I spent quite some time out on the steps (probably no more than 10 minutes but it felt like forever), focusing on not fainting which wasn't too far off. Boyfriend remarked on the fact that I looked upset - Jeez, I wonder why! I spent a good part of my night on the steps of a horrible looking hospital - do they really need to paint the walls in icky colours? - knowing that I could have been found face down on the floor due to a smell! Oh the embarrassment! I'm actually surprised it didn't happen!

I don't think I make a good Dr's girlfriend...


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You're wise not to trust your loving boyfriend much when it comes to smells. I still remember what he had in his closet when you two started going out!!!