Also, because I'm a genius and forgot that I had to bring the prescription paper to the pharmacy (I assumed they call it in and to my surprise they don't for Ativan), I finally got my prescription today. I've yet to try it, but I'm realizing the smaller the pills have the more serious side effects. Probably wasn't wise of me to browse the side effects menu they give you with the meds.
"Yes, I'd like to get diarrhea, shortness of breath, and a seizure salad, please."
So, the blood work was...interesting. I went to the place in town only to find out they close at 12pm. After a good face palm, I found out the one in the town over was still open. Part of me wanted to get it over with and the other part was hoping that since the first place was closed I wouldn't have to go. Thankfully, I'm not all stupid and know myself and my signature fight or flight (which results in lots of flights)behavior, so I had my mother tag along. She wasn't going to let me stop me.
We finally get to the place and they were still open. (Goddamnit). It was small and quiet. No one was there but a lone nurse. I noted the Halloween decorations everywhere. A gravestone that read "Out to Lunch" sat at the counter. I'm patient, but my mother isn't. She exclaimed, "I don't think anyone is here. Who's gonna help us?"
"Ma, I hear her talking. Wait a minute."
I think what went through my mothers head at that moment was "Fuck that" because she then proceeded to knock on the counter.
"I'm with a patient, I'll be right there!" We heard yelled from inside the office.
I muttered, "Told you."
And she said loudly, "See? I told you to wait a minute!"
Way to throw me under the bus for something I didn't do, mom. Between the time I was called in from the time I had to wait, I damned not being born in a test tube and wondered if bringing my mom was a bad idea.
After taking my information, the nurse lady told me to go on ahead to room 2. I walked in passing a glittery black skeleton hanging from the door, and sat down. Skeletons, gravestones and other signs of death and decay do not bode well to one who has tremendous anxiety. This was the moment of truth. To tumor or not to tumor. And yet, I was being bombarded with death symbols. Awesome. I clutched my purse as I took a seat in the chair. Two arm cushions on the side, and one to fold down for when the deed was being done. 'Reminds me of lethal injection chairs', I thought and soon regretted. Looking to my left I saw all sorts of vials. Big vials, little vials. Blue caps, purple caps. The box of sterilized latex gloves on the wall. I leaned over to pull a glove out as my mother whispered too loudly, "She's coming!"
I pulled my hand in quickly, only to realize my mother was bluffing. Strike two, mom.
The nurse lady leaned from behind her desk and asked if I had drank any coffee, used tobacco, or had tea. I said, "I had coffee and have been smoking all morning...why?"
"Oh, you weren't suppose to. The doctor never told you that? It throws off the levels."
"She never told me!", I said truthfully, yet I still always get the feeling medical folk think I bullshit them. I can't tell if it's a guilty conscious or they're just used to getting bullshitted. Probably the latter.
Her degree is total bullshit. Who the fuck ever heard of Barbie University?
"Well, I'm just gonna do it anyway." She said as she came into the room and started prepping my arm and the vials.
And here I thought I was getting off the hook. Nope. I looked away before she even started prepping the arm. I didn't want to see any of it. The less I see of it the better, I figured. I felt the cold alcohol swap. 'The needle's coming soon'. Then the elastic band around my arm, tugging at my skin. 'Okay...now it's coming.'
My mom shuffled over. "Want me to old your hand?" as she grabbed my hand.
"No, it's...", I stopped. "Going old school. Sure."
I felt the pinch of the needle. So far, so good. The blood was being drawn and I was okay.
'Maybe it's good that I brought her along' and just as that thought crossed my mind I heard my mom say, "Are you use to taking that much?"
My face at that moment.
'Oh god I'm gonna be sick. Close your eyes. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. Go to your happy place. HAPPY PLACE.'
After it was said and done, I tried ignoring the nurse fiddling with the vials to the left of me. And whatever cursed part of my brain compelled me to glace over is an asshole. What a jerk brain. I looked at the vials. Four big vials of dark red liquid. And two smaller ones. 'Goddamn, that IS a lot.' I thought.
After we left the office, I turned to my mom and said, "Holy shit...it was like four and a half vials."
She responded, "Actually it was eight. Four big ones, and four smaller ones."
'Thanks, ma.' I thought, and I wasn't sure if I was being sarcastic at that moment.
And then we totally did this. All gay and Hallmark-like, too.
