A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Three-Hundred-And-Twenty-Five

I have to get up early tomorrow, as I have an appointment for a blood draw in the morning.  I find it very stressful, to be honest.  My veins are difficult to work with: they are deep and hard to see and do not stay put when the needle comes.  As a result, I often have to be jabbed multiple times, and it is not always pleasant.  A few times, the first phlebotomist was required to trade out for someone else because they had tried so many times they weren't allowed to try again.  On a few occasions, the phlebotomists have gotten so annoyed dealing with the veins in my arms that they decided to use ones in my hand, once even drawing straight from a vein in my palm, which hurt for weeks after.  I know I have to get the blood drawn for my annual physical, but it always feels potentially traumatic when I have to.  I hope tomorrow will not be, or, at least, I am trying to remain optimistic about the possibility, if only so I can get some sleep tonight.

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