Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Satan's spawn came to my house, drew my blood, and replaced it with apple juice.*

Hey, did you read the title. If not, look up and check it out. See it? Ok, good. Well, that pretty much sums up my blood drawing experience, less she also had a spiked femullet (you know, a female mullet) with a braid down past her bum. No really, it is. But since you think I'm being overly dramatic, I'll go into detail.

But first, this disclaimer: the following is very un-politically correct and while we here at The Mrs. M/Newlywed Bliss do not discriminate or have prejudices against those who choose other lifestyles, it is what it is and I'll give my viewpoint accordingly on my blog. You may continue.

The life insurance company has a mobile service to give you a (free) physical before being approved for the plan. J set up our time to be last night at 6:30, as he is home from work by then. We had a conversation something like this:

J: Cupcake, it's no big deal. They just do the normal stuff and
you have to pee in a cup and I think getyourblooddrawn!

Me: Blood drawn? Or just a finger prick?

J: Probably just a finger prick, at least that's what
I'd think. I mean, surely. It'll be fine cupcake.

Ok, so I sucked it up and knew I just had to do it. I had hoped that taking allergy shots has toughened me up enough to get though this. Hmph! No so much.

So the, ahem, lady arrived at our home and got out of the car. My eyes popped out of my head. She was, well, quite Butch. Picture this: A femullet. With a spiked top. And a braid. A braid from the crown of the head down. Down to the arse! The sides were trimmed up around the ears and neck like a normal male haircut (I suppose). She also had interesting jewelery.

As you can see, we were off to a glowing start. She's friendly enough and speaks to the dog (who barks and runs) and we exchanged pleasantries. I gave her a heads up that I'm a bit anxious and not looking forward to the blood-drawn part.

Response: "well you and everyone else. I've never met someone that liked it."

Strike one for the butch woman with the funky 'do.

My retort: "ok, well I sometimes pass out....always"

We get started with the normal height/weight (ruined my husbands thoughts that I'm a buck twenty-five soaking wet) and blood pressure stuff. I had an up close look of her gaudy jewelry to see the big gold EMT ring, a copper bangle-type bracelet and an interesting thumb ring. I studied it, thinking that the star with a circle around it symbol looked familiar. Hmm, where had I seen that before? Oh right, that would be in Sunday School when they taught us about the occult! WHAT? THE? ----!

I pick my mouth up off the floor and move on. We tinkle in the cup (one of the least sexy things J and I have done together-producing a cup of urine to a stranger (ahem, now known as Satan's spawn) in our home) and then comes the really fun straw-the-size-of-a-needle-sucking-enough-blood-to-fill-a-punch-bowl. J went first, I turned my head and didn't watch a thing.

J was finished and announced that he'd go take care of the pooch.

Me: Oh no no no no NO you won't! You'll pull up a chair and sit right beside of me.

I'm fairly certain he rolled his eyes at me.

So then it came. Of course she looked at both arms because my veins are microscopic (which is even better for the large, drill-typed needle). Finally she goes back and look at a happy place with a is a pretty little card from Mrs. A on my fridge.
Gulp! It goes in. Ok, not to bad. Not to bad. I'm fine, really I'm fine. I'm going to be fine.

But I'm not. I can feel the blood gushing out of my body like a fire-hydrant in the Bronx on a smoggy July day. I feel faint...dizzy...sick.

She tells me to slow my breathing and apparently I take that as a cue to just stop it all together! Silly breathing.

Next thing I know butch spawn with bad femullet with spikes and braid is holding me up and J is pouring juice down my throat. I don't really remember the first drink but on the second drink my head began to come back down and reattach to my body. I could open my eyes and slightly funcion after the whiffs of peppermint oil under my nose (better than ammonia--points for the spawn on that one). The third brought back color to my lips and face and I felt a bit more normal. I finished off the juice and she did a quick check of my reflexes to make sure I was ok and then was out the door.

So see there--I told you--Satan's spawn came to my house, drew my blood, and replaced it with apple juice.

Afterwards J took me to our favorite little place, The Silver Spoon, and I had this:

Peanut Butter Ice Cream Pie with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I only regret that I didn't get two of them. (You see J's hand there but he didn't pull back a nub--I barely touched him.)

*Me, me, me! This could only happen to me! Hello Murphy. Glad to be the example for every single law you could have!


Anonymous said...

Your stories are hiliarous! (spelling?).

I'm sorry that you passed out! And, I'm glad that you got some Peanut Butter pie!!

I'll have to remember the term "femullet". I think it should be added to Webster's Dictionary. :0)

Kas said...

Oh man! Well, at least she knew what she was doing and didn't let you die!! I'm glad it is over for you. And that pie looks delish!

BlondeMomBlog (Jamie) said...

OK I am sorry you had to deal with this, but I have to say that this story is freaking HILARIOUS my dear!!!!!!!

And your husband is awesome for the treat. Go J!

Femullet...OMG! Snort.

Cakabaker said...

You poor dear! What you went through. I am very sorry, but I am laughing hard while reading this. Not very friendly of me is it? Can't help myself.
I am very glad that you are ok, and that it is over and done with.
Sounds like she knew what she was doing tho with the apple juice and the peppermint oil, good thing J didn't leave you.
Hope you are feeling better after eating that pie :) Take care.

Platinum Rose said...

Yikes! I am sorry you fainted! That lady would have creeped me out, too! How nice that you got to go out for dessert (well-deserved) afterwards though!

Rusti said...

Oh Mrs M - how I feel for you... my husband is the exact same way... I convinced him in high school to give blood as the National Honor Society was sponsoring a blood drive (and I happened to be IN the NHS) so even though he told me he didn't like needles, I convinced him that it wasn't a big deal, the needle was small, he didn't have to look, and he would be just fine. So... during lunch time he came to give his blood. He was a little nervous, a little pale, but he was doing it for ME. He gave his blood, said he was good, got up to go to the snack table, and promptly slumped over in a faint. They had to get a little chair with wheels, and take him back behind a partition and made him lay down. He was mortified. (He also didn't EAT before hand, and you are SUPPOSED to eat... if had had eaten something at all earlier he would have been fine... I just know it) and he still has not forgiven me for it. I tease him sometimes about upcoming blood drives, and he just gives me THAT look. You know, the one that says "You did that to me on purpose. How could you? I can't believe you can be so cruel." Eh... he lived didn't he?? :)

I'm glad you had your wonderful hubby to take care of you, and the delish looking pie to restore balance to your world, and blood sugar. :) XOXO