Today has been busy, and it's only 10:28 in the morning.
Everything I had to get done, I did in under an hour.
I woke up and dashed into the blood lab, with my 1 year req in hand. Being that it was 9 am I brought a book just incase the place was backed up with old people. Luckily for me, there was no an old person to be seen, and I was the only one in there. I was told to go into room 1 immediately where I sat and waited while they looked over my req.
"Are you fasting?" they shouted.
"Yes - I always do when I get blood taken" i responded.
"When did you take your meds last?"
"9 last night"
So it always goes...
Soon enough a new blood-taker lady came in who was nice enough, but she kind've lost me when she looked over my req - right in front of my face - and inquired, "Are you used to having blood taken?"
No, I'm not used to having blood taken. In the event of dying and subsequently needing a transplant, they never take blood. They save that for later when you're all well and better...In fact, I've never so much as seen a needle and have no idea what you're talking about. And please, blood-taker lady, stop staring at my port, for it is merely there for decoration and nothing else. And no, I don't have a scar from my transplant, but I do have a line that looks like a scar that I drew on myself one night out of sheer boredom.
Pft. Some people.
This kind've took me back to the time I had a bronch and the nurse forgot to put heparin in the line before she removed the needle, after I told her twice to do it. I should just leave this shit up to myself since you can't rely on anyone else to remember.
And speaking of not being able to rely on anyone...
I was at the pharmacy today picking up meds and inquiring about the Trillium Drug Plan (since I'll be 25 in two weeks and thus cut off from my parents drug coverage - weeeeee not). The pharmacist guy - who again, is nice enough - was going over my meds and I was telling him what I can take them with, what I can't, and blah blah blah, and he laughed and told me that I could probably be a pharmacist to which i thought, "Probably....wait: why am I trusting you with my meds again....?"
You will be shocked to know that at any point I did not think "you fucking idiot", and actually, the word 'fuck' never sprung into my head when referring to these people either.
So yes...all of this, and all of these wonderful thoughts, invaded my brain in under the course of an hour. I am now able to sit and enjoy my tea as I wait for lunch to roll around so i can pick up my sis from work, and then go to another appointment for immunology.
And while we're at it...I may look into changing my background again.