Last night I beat my record for most number of vials used during a blood draw. Previously, the most I had ever had taken was 14 vials but last night I hit a new record high of 15 vials. Something to be excited about? Not really, but I can't tell you how relieved I was that someone was even taking my blood.
After the screw-up with the doctor's office where they forgot to run some very important tests on the blood I drove all the way to Evanston to give, I thought I would have to drive all the way back down there. After some discussion the nurse said she'd try and find a lab here to draw the blood and run the tests. The tests being a bit out of the norm, it came down to one lab that said they could do them. Saturday morning I presented my arm at the appointed lab but alas, no-one there knew what one of the ordered tests was. After waiting 40 minutes a decision was finally made to send me home with directions to return Monday if they had things figured out.
I was upset by getting jerked around yet again, and even more upset that the days until my next cycle starts just keep ticking away and I still have no plan of attack for next cycle. The delay in this testing delays everything else as well. And yet, at the same time, I'm just coming to accept that very few things have been going the right way for me lately.
In the end, the lab called me yesterday to report that they could indeed to the tests and I went back to the lab and had 12 vials of blood taken from my left arm and three vials of blood taken from my right arm. As she drew the blood, the technician and I were talking. Turns out she lost a son at one month old. I can't even imagine.
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