I'm writing a blog. I know. I should have been a regular blogger sooner than this. (I cover my face with shame! Woe am I!!! LOL)
So, welcome. Welcome to my tiny blog space on cyberspace. I'll probably make mistakes... so laugh at will.
First off, I don't want to bore you. It's gonna be a fun, casual blog with crazy stories. Now, for the first topic of the day... Blood drawing. No, I'm not talking about what sickos do when they paint with their own blood. I'm talking about a typical doctor's office blood test. It's nothing much...
But who am I kidding? It is, too!! It's punishment! It HURTS! (Don't worry: It was just a typical, run-of-the-mill blood drawing. I'm not seriously ill or something! And I'm not a cry-baby. But, for humor, bear with me.)
First, the nurse stabbed me. Then she stared. No blood came. Maybe the summer heat had dried me out.
She said with a smile (hey, why did she smile??), "Well, I don't seem to be getting anything out of that one. I'll try again."
Suddenly, as I scanned the tiny room, I wondered, "I'm in a little room with a lady who stabs me. I sure hope she likes me." Hands cold...room hot...smiling nurse....not good...
She stabbed again. Does she have a vendetta? I thought. Maybe I didn't sign my book for her or something.
Finally, I exited the torture chamber. And I'll soon have my bruise of courage. I wear my bandage like a medal saying, "I survived." (It's a plain tan Band-Aid...nothing like the cute ones I got as a kid! Why don't fashionistas design cute bandages for young adults?)
Anyone else had a struggle with blood drawing? Comment on, folks. Comment on. But there's one stipulation: it's gotta be true. After all, my blog's title sums it up: Stacie Ruth loves the truth.
Seriously, any stories to share about a doctor's visit?
-Stacie Ruth
P.S. The nurse is my friend...after all. :) Happy ending!
So, welcome. Welcome to my tiny blog space on cyberspace. I'll probably make mistakes... so laugh at will.
First off, I don't want to bore you. It's gonna be a fun, casual blog with crazy stories. Now, for the first topic of the day... Blood drawing. No, I'm not talking about what sickos do when they paint with their own blood. I'm talking about a typical doctor's office blood test. It's nothing much...
But who am I kidding? It is, too!! It's punishment! It HURTS! (Don't worry: It was just a typical, run-of-the-mill blood drawing. I'm not seriously ill or something! And I'm not a cry-baby. But, for humor, bear with me.)
First, the nurse stabbed me. Then she stared. No blood came. Maybe the summer heat had dried me out.
She said with a smile (hey, why did she smile??), "Well, I don't seem to be getting anything out of that one. I'll try again."
Suddenly, as I scanned the tiny room, I wondered, "I'm in a little room with a lady who stabs me. I sure hope she likes me." Hands cold...room hot...smiling nurse....not good...
She stabbed again. Does she have a vendetta? I thought. Maybe I didn't sign my book for her or something.
Finally, I exited the torture chamber. And I'll soon have my bruise of courage. I wear my bandage like a medal saying, "I survived." (It's a plain tan Band-Aid...nothing like the cute ones I got as a kid! Why don't fashionistas design cute bandages for young adults?)
Anyone else had a struggle with blood drawing? Comment on, folks. Comment on. But there's one stipulation: it's gotta be true. After all, my blog's title sums it up: Stacie Ruth loves the truth.
Seriously, any stories to share about a doctor's visit?
-Stacie Ruth
P.S. The nurse is my friend...after all. :) Happy ending!
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