The dreaded blood work.
Normally I don't think much about blood work. It comes every 3 months like clockwork and I just do what I'm told. I love watching them stab me and draw vial after vial after vial. I know I can be sick and twisted but there's no need to fear something that happens to me 4 times a year. There's no way to stop it so why not embrace it. Get right in there and watch. It's not like it really hurts.
I never have problems with it. They never have problems finding the veins, drawing up the blood and sending me on my way. I never bruise and it's over before I know it. Not today. Either I had a not-so-sharp lab tech (ha, pun intended!) or my body was being a pain in the arse. So the first needle comes like always. In clips an empty vial but no gushing blood like usual. Instead I watched her twist and turn the needle all around inside my arm. When she got some flow I remember thinking "that's awfully slow, she must not be right in there." 6 vials she needed to fill. It usually gushes faster than that. She continued to twist the needle around inside of me like she was trying to crochet my veins into a pretty scarf. I flinched and clenched my teeth. This really hurt! The last vial and she couldn't get barely enough blood for it so she put another empty one in thinking the vial was plugged. All the while I'm thinking she just wasn't in right in the first place! The crocheting continued until finally she gave up and switched to my other arm. Holy crap that hurt! Poking and stabbing me like I was a bowl of jello jigglers. NASTY! Second arm worked fine for that last measly vial of blood. For the first time ever, I bruised.
After all that mess I felt the dread of the looming appointment. I normally don't fret too much about lab results. Except that my last endo appointment left me in a serious slump of tears for weeks. I went into that appointment expecting good results. I had been working my ASS off to an extreme level and was blasted with all my numbers worse than they were before. I've never felt so broken. Here I am again, in the same place. Hard work behind me, conscientious exercise and diet regimen and I'm scared as hell. If this lab work comes back worse again, I think I might just be ready to give up. I don't pray but I am hoping with all my might that I see a positive change. I can't handle more bad news. This feels odd though, because I normally try not to worry but I can't help it now. I NEED some good news.