Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Someone recently posted a comment about a post in the archives asking "who's the skank?" That skank happens to be a good friend of mine named Nikki, with whom I've been a friend since 1992 or 93.

I have a fear of needles and blood - specifically my own blood. So, when I get my blood drawn every month to check the levels of drug in my system to combat my bipolar disorder, I get a little nervous.

One of my nervous ticks is that I start to crack jokes to break the tension. The routine goes as follows: A nurse sits me down in a chair and has me outstretch my arm. Every time we do this she has another nurse come in because it's hard to find a vein in my arm. The second string nurse wasn't in today so I was going to have to go to another office.

Fuck.

The anticipation and waiting for that fucking needle to plow into my arm was killing me. I start spouting off: "You guys should hire a reformed heroine addict to be your full time phlebotomist. I mean... you're a nurse in an office and you can't draw blood from my arms yet a heroin junkie can find a vein in the dark under a bridge in the rain. I then shoot off onto another topic: Do you think that the telekinesis people on those shows where people bent spoons with the power of their mind were just really good heroin addicts just showing off? I mean... why was it always spoons?"

The nurse just shrugged me off as she left me alone in a neighboring office. I probably pissed her off, but I hates me a syringe... I tell you what!

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