Our Trip to the Lab (warning...some gross content :)

My Saturday started early this week. Because of the medication she’s taking, Emma has to have blood work periodically to monitor how much of it is in her system, and to make sure that it’s not having a negative effect on her liver, etc. My plan was to get to the lab right when it opened, since a) Emma would be STARVING, with it being fasting blood work, and b) she couldn’t have her medication until after the blood work had been done. However, it took us longer to find a parking space than I had planned (basically because I was too cheap to park in the paid lot and had to scout around for a free meter), so we ended up getting there after they’d been open for about 10 minutes or so. Even still, I figured (foolishly) how many people are going to be needing blood work on a Saturday morning?. HA! The waiting room was packed; old people, young people, nervous and possibly pregnant people, and of course, some odd people (like the man who was wearing his slippers).

We took a number and had a seat. We were #57, and they were serving #38, so I figured we had a pretty good wait ahead of us. I don’t think an hour has ever passed so slowly. A series of brief videos kept looping the whole time we waited, so feel free to ask me about conserving water, how to support a newborn’s head, and the alarming symptoms of a stroke. The longer we sat, the more I got grossed out about the waiting room and the probably horrific levels of bacteria sitting on every surface. People were coughing all over the place, but even worse were the people who had to provide urine samples. At one point, there were about half a dozen people sitting in the waiting room with steamy little specimen bottles; some with damp paper towel around them. Blech.

The one that really got me was the teenager sitting near us. The poor guy had some pretty bad acne, which is unfortunate. However, it’s probably not a good idea to pick at the spots. I happened to look his way just in time to see him pick a spot on his forehead, examine his fingernails and then casually dispose of whatever he found there…on the floor? on the chair? Who knows where it went? I had one of those “I just threw up a bit in the back of my throat” kind of moments.

But finally, it was our turn. Emma was a trooper and only cried a little bit. She was easily won over by a couple suckers, a finger puppet and the promise of a hashbrown from McDonald’s. Thank goodness we don’t have to have blood work done again for a few months. I’m not sure my stomach could handle it.