The Blood Draw Chronicles
It began with a call from my doctor’s office to schedule my mammogram. My first instinct is to procrastinate, but my friend posts reminders on Facebook all the time about not putting off your annual physical or mammogram. She was diagnosed with cancer during a routine mammogram, her life saved because she didn’t procrastinate. So I make the appointment for the mammogram AND the physical. I am in the adult zone.
My doctor wants me to have blood drawn before my appointment, so I take off work and go to the lab. When I’m called back, I give the phlebotomist my usual spiel: this arm is better than the other arm, this vein is better than this one. I apologize for my tiny, rolling veins, letting her know the best way to show them who is boss is to use a butterfly needle.
She ignores everything I tell her and insists that she knows what she’s doing.
Two needle sticks later, and it’s clear that she doesn’t know what she’s doing.
But she finally gets some blood, and I go on my way.
Days later, I’m washing the dishes and realize that I haven’t seen the test results. They’re usually sent within 48 hours. And I start to worry: what if the doctor isn’t releasing the test results because something is wrong with the test results? What if she wants to tell me the results in person rather than having me read them on the screen?
So I call the lab to find out if they ran the tests and why the results haven’t been sent. “If you don’t have them, it means your doctor hasn’t released them,” the man tells me. I knew it! I’m dying, and my doctor wants to be there when I hear the big news, just like my friend years ago who refused to tell me her pregnancy news via email because she “wanted to see my face.” Seriously? Why did she want to see me cry in jealousy?
Anyway, I’m dying.
But wait… I’m not dying. The man checks my records and tells me that the blood tests were cancelled. Why were the blood tests cancelled? Because the phlebotomist didn’t draw the blood properly and it clotted. So it was unusable. We needed to start over.
So I went back to the lab this weekend. And I explained what happened to the new phlebotomist. She listened to my spiel and looked at my arm, telling me that she was going to try THE SAME THING THE OTHER WOMAN DID. I explained how it hadn’t worked last time, and I have the bruises to prove it, and that if she would just listen to me and use a butterfly needle on the vein I’m pointing at, we’ll all be done with this in two minutes. She takes out a large needle, insisting I’m wrong and that she has 38 years experience drawing blood. I stand up and tell her that I am going because I have 44 years experience living in this body with these tiny, rolling baby veins and I am done being ignored. Finished. Beyond finished. I don’t care about the blood test. She can explain to my doctor why we don’t have the results.
She tells me to sit down and takes out a butterfly need. She doesn’t speak to me when I thank her for finally using the butterfly needle in the vein of my choosing and getting the blood easily on the first try. 30 seconds later, after thanking her for the third time and being ignored, I walk out and burst into tears in the hallway.
I go in the bathroom and have a long cry in the bathroom stall, sobbing in frustration at being ignored. This second blood draw is the final straw in a string of upsetting encounters in a crappy week.
I decide to swing by the comic store on my way home, and I have a long conversation with the owner about various characters and series. Finally! A positive experience with another human being, who goes above and beyond to not only get me the comic I want, but engages in happy, geeky conversation about Mark Waid’s awesome new Doctor Strange series. I make my purchase and thank him for turning the end of my bad week around. I leave feeling ten times better.
Then I get home and look in the mirror while I’m washing my hands. There is an enormous wad of toilet paper stuck to my face, and IT WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME THAT I WAS SPEAKING TO THE OWNER OF THE COMIC BOOK STORE. And he hadn’t said anything. Because he’s that kind of a mensch.
Thank G-d for nice comic owners.
11 comments
Good for You! I know it was an awful experience, but you finally got heard!! And now…I am curious about the new Dr. Strange series!!!
((Hugs))
Here’s to a better week next week…and good results!
Do you have a choice in labs? I would not return there. Ever. And I would complain to the management. Because even though everyone tells the phlebotomists how difficult it is to get their blood, they should have listened the second time. And it shouldn’t be that hard to put a note on the request, so maybe ask your doctor to do that next time?
But the comic store owner sounds lovely. (He could have alerted you to the stuff on your face though. I would have preferred that. But that’s just me.)
Big hugs. So frustrating when you are ignored. But I am glad you stood your ground in the end.
I’m beyond angry you were treated this way. I recommend not only complaining to your physician about this, but complaining to the lab manager. Their phlebotomists need to be retrained, not only with blood draws (seriously, they should be footing the bill) but also with their patient interactions.
I’m glad you stood up for yourself. I’m glad you didn’t let this woman bully you. Hopefully them having to foot the cost and getting feedback will result I. A much needed staff meeting.
Oh, Mel, that’s AWFUL. I hate blood draws, and I also have a specific vein that is pretty much a guarantee and won’t result in pulling blood from a muscle (owwww) or “fishing” because the vein was lost… and when you get a terrible phlebotomist who thinks they know everything and then it’s traumatizing that is SO FRUSTRATING. And how dare that woman follow your instructions, get the draw easy-peasy, and then shut you out like that? SO RUDE. Here there are surveys you can fill out for blood draws and labs (and pretty much any medical service), and I hope there’s one for yours so you can pretty much lambaste the lack of listening skills and empathy. And WTF, why couldn’t they have contacted you sooner about the clotted blood instead of making you wait and envision every horrible thing that could be delaying the results? I go straight to “I’m dying” too. It’s horrible. This whole experience was just so terrible for you, and I’m so sorry. I’m glad you had a great time with the comic store owner though, and he was kind to you. I hope this week is wayyy better!
WTAF
(And I do the same thing worrying why the doctor hasn’t called, released results, etc…)
I have had some bad experiences…in 2002 I had appendicitis. I was in the ER and when I got punctured for an IV, it literally felt like they were using a broken bottle (seriously, was it an intern or something?). The next year I got really dehydrated with a GI illness and needed fluids but I refused bc I didn’t want anyone putting a needle in my arm. Another time I was donating blood in one of those Red Cross vans and got a bad puncture…I was in horrible pain and there a lot longer than it usually takes…then at my first IVF clinic, the phlebotomist drew my blood and put a band aid on the spot. I put my sweater on and went to the bathroom and noticed my arm was covered in blood. Since then I insist on coban tape (why isn’t it standard???).
Oh man, what an awful set of experiences. Standing ovation goes to you for standing up to yourself, though. That’s not always easy to do in the moment and you did a beautiful job! Hope the results of all the tests are good news,
First, it takes courage to stand up to someone being so completely sh*tty to you; especially when you’re already anxious about the situation. So, kudos to you for that.
Second, F that phlebotomist. Ugh. As if being pricked with a needle to make sure you don’t have a terminal disease isn’t bad enough, the lab had to be completely unprofessional.
Hopefully, you’re having a better week.
Ugh, I’m so sorry Mel. I’m just catching up on posts now. It’s SO frustrating when people (especially ones who are going to be stabbing you with a needle) don’t listen.
As a healthcare worker I can tell you that there are definitely patients who come in and try to tell us how to do our jobs, and it can be frustrating. Unless it’s something that’s going to affect the outcome in a negative way, it makes sense to listen. It sounds like this lady just felt like you were attacking her knowledge or experience and didn’t want to admit you were correct in the end. Which is on her. I hate encountering shitty people who are clearly unhappy….I mean as much as she may have not wanted to be there at work, I can bet you wanted to be there less. Compassion goes a long way, especially in the healthcare setting.
I am so sorry your whole week was met with crappy people. You know, when I encounter people like that, I just keep a smile on my face (as long as no one is being rude or unhelpful) and stay nice back. If it’s someone who is being unhelpful, but eventually does things my way, I usually make a comment about how that wasn’t hard/impossible after all.
(Hugs)))) I how this week is met with more kindness.
P.S. Are you frozen in due to the ice where you are? We have been all ice since late Sunday. It’s finally raining but it’s still a slick mess.
I’m sorry you’ve had a bad week. I’m sorry that woman did not listen to you. You’re my hero for telling her that you have much more experience of your particular body. It’s her loss that she was so small-minded that she didn’t respond when you kindly said thank you. (When you could have said, “I told you so.”)
Also – I kinda wish the comic guy had told you about the toilet paper. Good thing you went straight home.
Oh Mel. This is the stuff of my nightmares, and I’m not even talking about the toilet paper on the face.
I am so mad at both those beyotches for being so full of themselves that they could not listen to you. And that no one even let you know the blood had to be re-drawn! Ugh.
This is my favorite part,. I will probably be copying you at some point: “I stand up and tell her that I am going because I have XX years experience living in this body.”