The Blood Test

If I’m honest, I’m not that fussed by needles – I don’t like them (it would be weird if I did) but they do not make me start crying and running out the room (I have seen it be done, trust me). May I ask why, after not a particularly painful feeling in your antecubital (fancy word for inside of your elbow that my spell-check really doesn’t agree with) you would put freaking duct tape on a piece of cotton wool the size of a small county and permanently glue it to your arm! Seriously, getting it off is more painful than getting the needle stuck in you! The woman also managed to kind of stick my elbow shut so I walked out of the hospital like an injured soldier while my arm had a sort of hysterics whereby it would hurt a lot and then tickle and then go numb, in that order. In short, my arm was literally moving on its own, earning me a lot of judging looks from the countless old people sitting in the Waiting Room of Terror (everyone was like “yeah, I’ve done this blood test thing loads of times I’m totally fine by the whole thing I don’t even need my elbows anyway peasants” but their eyes were saying “I don’t like needles or scary ladies with duct tape!”).

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