Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes

As part of a larger corporate incentive, my company offers a discount on our health insurance premiums if we go through a two-step process to increase our healthy awareness. One of them is filling out a health questionnaire (no, I don’t smoke; no, I haven’t for a while; yes, I get a little sad sometimes; yes, I’m working on it).

The other part is one of two things: one, get, or have had a physical between 1/1/2012 and 2/28/2013; or two, get a full lab spectrum (a “blueprint for wellness”) at a phlebotomy lab.

Well, as I was not aware of the physical portion of the qualification process, and I didn’t want to go through the rigmarole of trying to get into my doctor, and then trying to have having him fill out a form, I opted for phlebotomy.

There is an approved lab in my neighborhood, if one considers South Russell my neighborhood (and out in Chestertucky, one would). I scheduled a first-in-the-morning appointment so I could get in and out.

I was not aware that most of the phlebotomists were out that day, leaving only one. I patiently waited; this is how things go sometimes.

For my patience, I was rewarded with Nurse Ratched. She had the bedside manner of Gregory House, with none of the charm. Again, given the sketchy information I was given around the qualification process, I applied for the wrong spectrum of bloodwork. Discovering my mistake elicited such a heavy sigh from Nurse Ratched, you would have thought I had suggested we eat her puppy for lunch. Once we got all of the paperwork sorted, she jabbed me pretty good in the krelbow with the needle, too. I was 100% sure I was going to look like I was driving nails up my arms given the ache (I was spared, I look only like a one-time user).

Good news, though, guys: my blood pressure is 117/70! It’s not the first time I’ve been asked if I ever experience fainting spells or lightheadedness. But, I’ve always had low blood pressure, so we can’t prematurely attribute it to my fabulous Buspar mellow.

This, however, was not the best part of my experience. I shuffled back out into the waiting room to put my coat back on, and Nurse Ratched sees the growing group of people waiting for bloodwork and says, “There’s going to be a wait of about 10 to 15 minutes; it’s only me.”

To which, a gentleman of a Certain Age (TM) stands up in the middle of the waiting room (which was actually centrally-located for four different medical practices in this tiny building – it was odd), makes a big motion of waving his hand in the air and calling out, “Bye!” Like we were all going to miss him and run after him so he could please, please come back.

So, he kicked up a big fuss all the way out to his car, with which he nearly backed me over. Then, reverse drops it into gear and goes tearing out of the parking lot out of the “Exit” driveway and floors it down 306.

It was a weird morning. I soothed my krelbow and sudden anemia with a Cinnamon Crunch bagel from Panera. That sort of made it worth it.

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