|
2004-09-03 - 6:55 p.m. Patty and Phoebe, you were great. Together, you both looked at my teeth, you both applied pressure to either side of my chest and back while I took in deep breaths, and exhaled them as you wished. Phoebe, when you gently pressed in and under my rib cage and I squirmed, it wasn't because you were bad at what you do. No, no. It was because I am a phobic mess when it comes to rib probes, specifically. Patty, when you drew my blood and it took you two times to find my vein: I won't fool you into thinking that it didn't smart, because it certainly did. But once my tablespoon was drawn and I saw it in the vial, in me welled a great respect. Mostly for my own blood; seeing it outside of my body, and being able to give it the props it deserves (it's very efficient and good blood), but also for you, Patty. Because I know that it was one of your first times drawing blood, and you did remarkably well. Speaking of, I could have easily and with good conscience shed the scarlet of the clerk at the hotel/motel liquidation store today. Honestly Sir, I wanted to harm you, physically. I hope I've still got all my electrolytes.
|