Until recently, I had experienced a certain degree of squeamishness watching blood draws from a phlebotomist. Receiving a call from the doctor’s office, the time had arrived for another joyous extraction from my body. In commuting to work today, I had debated whether or not to blog about this bloody affair. On one hand, by sharing the experience, I had figured speak to freewill, fear and health. On the other hand, I had coveted the opportunity to maybe gross out someone with a description and/or depiction of fluid squirting into a vial. With the titillation of documenting a blood draw, I had decided to face my own phobia while providing a specimen.

Scheduling the appointment Wednesday, I had thought about the various friends and family with varying degrees of health issues. With all of these folks, blood had played an instrumental role in providing feedback for possible treatments. Each one of those people had experienced one form of blood defect or another; anemia, bad cholesterol, diabetes, high blood pressure, HIV and beyond. Perplexing to me, the number of people with good health care that had avoided any type of medical care, let alone leveraging the results. Maybe some folks had romanced the idea of dying at their desk? Maybe not?

Walking back from a work break yesterday, I had engaged in conversation with a fellow coworker speaking to a mutual love of food. The man had talked about his quality of life deriving from all the wonderfully fattening food out in the world. My mind’s eye had quickly filled with images of BBQ ribs, pizza, hot dogs and fries. All of a sudden, my food selections for the day; bananas, protein shakes, and tuna had seemed awfully bland. Before breaking for his desk, the slightly obese man had made another comment,” I know what I got coming. I just wanna enjoy life while I am here.” Morbid? Yes; however, catching me at vulnerable moment of hunger, I had thought, ”Awe yah! Real food!” I responded verbally with the following,” I have seen quite a few skinny sad faces out there. They just might be happier with a burger and a milkshake.” The point was a familiar theme, freewill to determine one’s quality of life.

To that freewill part, I had arrived at my appointment for blood draw this morning. I was starving like a rapid bear. I had asked the phlebotomist about recording her routine. She had gracefully granted my request. Sitting down, I had focused a mobile phone camera upon my elbow. Wrapping a tourniquet tightly around my upper right arm, the phlebotomist  had proceeded to wipe down my skin with an alcoholic pad. Flipping my thumb across my phone’s camera options, I had gleefully recorded some pictures and video. For a change, I had lost focus of the small needle pinch to the skin. With each passing second of recorded video, the stomach curdling feelings of watching blood squirt away had vanished. All I had needed to work on now, suppressing my lust for food!

Read More:
dying @ your desk (GarzaFX)
Eat According to Your Blood Type (Men’s Fitness)
Human Anatomy: Blood – Cells, Plasma, Circulation, and More (WebMD)

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