A not-so joyful trip to the hospital

 This morning they stuck me. Mom woke me up at the painfully early seven am and rushed me around  so we could be the first in line at the hospital admittance desk.
When we arrived the place smelled of disinfectant and fear. But perhaps that was just me. My mother filled out some forms at the front desk. I contemplated my options. The lobby was close to the entrance, not to far off from where we were. If I sprinted I could be out of here in no time flat. Maybe I could smash the container of a fake potted plant as a distraction.
Before I could make a move, Mom bounded over to where I was sitting with a smile. My mom is pretty, with her curly blonde hair and womanly figure. She's only five foot but can pack a punch. I didn't want to feel her wrath while I was still half dead to the world.
It was hardly five past eight but the sun shone mockingly through the windows in the hallway leading to the labratory. It's if they were laughing at the fact I would be stuck inside a small waiting room without windows, on a glorious summer's day. The sad part is school starts in two days, but I'm so sick I can't bend over without getting light headed.
My mother was sort oblivious to my laboured breathing caused by being congested in the nose and throat areas. She motered it all the way to the lab without turning back. This would have probably been the best time for a clever getaway, but I was half down the hallway already. Turning around would have taken energy that I didn't have.
Sitting in the lab waiting room was awful. Every time the nurse came out of her little cubical to call out the name or the next victim... er patient, my whole body seized up. It was as if my arm knew it was about to be violated by a sharp metal object because it began to twitch. Which was sort of frightening.
Then the moment came. The nurse stepped out and called my name. My heart pounded against my rib cage. I got up slowly and marched as if it was my exacution. Suddenly the room seemed to crowded, the air too hot. 
 I read somewhere that when people become overly frightened they begin to get hysterical. That would explain why I started jabbering away as the nurse closed the door. She held my arm and used a band to push all the skin to the inside of my elbow. My voice got more high pitched the more she played with medical equipment on the counter beside me. I decided not not look at her just in case I caught a glimpse of the needle. 
She responded with clam "mhmm"s whenever I asked her if she understood what I was saying because I just was so terrified of needles and if I yelled at her or maybe thought some terrible thoughts about her it really was not her fault I just was scared silly and did not like sharp pointy things going into my arm and sucking out my blood like a vampire...  And that's when I felt a sharp pain just below the band she had placed on my arm.
It definitively was not a pleasant experience feeling my blood drain trickling out into a tube, but it was necessary and I survived. Perhaps in the future we will discover a way to make certain diagnosis' with saliva. That way, all patients would have to do would be to suck on a lollipop and doctors could analyze that. A sweet alternative to blood work.
For now I'm bearing the pain of a sore arm with a smile, because hopefully all this uncertainty will soon be over. 

In high spirits and low iron levels,

Arctic Hipster

Alas! The virus is attacking! Start the tea kettle! Man the tissue box! Skip the....chicken noodle soup?

That's right. I've fallen victim to the oldest form of super villain, the not-so-common cold. The reasoning for calling it that is because doctors have tried to diagnose me to no avail.

Apparently the symptoms I'm suffering from are all across the board ; sore throat to killer cramps and a splitting head ache, and could fall under numerous categories for illnesses. Leaving me feeling like a science experiment. The latest theory has me scheduled for a blood test. Tomorrow the lucky people at the hospital will use my fore arm as a pin cushion. Perhaps you can read the lack of excitement expressed in that last statement?

The argument is that the vile containing my life water will be analysed, and will narrow down the possibilities, finally giving us some sort of idea what we're dealing with. However, I'm not the most logical person when it comes to these sort of things. I prefer to have my body fluids where they belong, in my body. Yes, I'm actually quite happy with them circulating in my person like they are suppose to. Not in some lab getting picked apart by a medical practitioner. That's the natural reaction is it not? For some reason I doubt there is anyone who would readily subject themselves to this sort of examination. 

Meanwhile, while I'm feeling like the black death warmed up, it's a lovely twenty three degrees outside.

Cruel, oh so cruel.

At least there is blogging right? I write this as my feverish hands slip off the keys due to sweat. That was discusting, ha ha. Sometimes in sheer desperatos you can't help but laugh. The only down side is now I'm hoarking up a lung, which oddly enough makes me laugh harder. 

Must be my meds. 

Hopefully none of you are ill at this time. If you are, I bequeath my kleenex box to you.

Arctic Hipster