absent.canadian

I went in to get more blood drawn to check my TSH levels.  Can you believe it’s been almost two months since i was diagnosed with hypothyroidism?

So the people in the lab were very nice to me.  And understandably so – they were student interns, and it was their first day in a clinical setting.

Getting blood drawn is usually a very quick affair.  A tiny pinprick, blood shoots out into a little glass vial, and it’s over in a handful of seconds.

Not this time.  My veins decided to fuck with these poor students, and they literally had to rummage around inside of my arm to find the vein.  And the worst part?  I looked down when they were doing this, and almost fainted.

I felt bad for them; everyone has to start somewhere, and I knew they were doing the best they could.  But I guess they became a bit panicked when they saw my face get really pale.

But all is well that ends well … they finally did find the vein, and I filled two vials with the red stuff.  And I immediately came back and blogged about it.

It was bound to happen. Yesterday morning I couldn’t remember whether I had taken my thyroid pill or not, and I had to count the number of days I’ve been taking the meds, and the number of pills left in the bottle … and thus, I came to understand why old people love these little pill carriers so much.

I think this is my rite of passage into some new stage of life; one that includes the clapper, telephones with BIG DIGIT buttons and little electric buggies that fold up and fit in the trunk of my Buick.