Fail veins, the library, history
Jan. 6th, 2010 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lizbeeSo the glucose tolerance test was, once again, a bust. The Supreme Vein Expert of the clinic couldn't even find a vein in my hand. This is, in fact, the very first time he's ever failed to find a vein, so apparently some money has exchanged hands. Which is nice, but once again I'm walking around with elbows like a junkie. Albeit with no bruising, because that would require blood, which apparently I don't have.
(Thank you to the peeps on my Twitter feed, who were asking pertinent questions like, "are you a ghost? a vampire? a demigod?" and "Do you sparkle in the sunlight? Find people telling you you're not very cuddly? DO YOU HAVE THE SKIN OF A KILLAAAAAAH??????")
I was released after a few hours, to eat my own weight in meatball subs (not really, I just had one six inch sub) and stumble home. Next they recommend going straight to the pathology lab, where there are dedicated experts.
I'm very puzzled by this whole thing, because I've never before had problems with finding veins for blood tests. I drink heaps of water -- two litres before the test this morning -- so it can't be dehydration. (The nurse dude confirmed this.) I am wondering if heat might be the problem -- or the lack of it, rather. The air conditioning at the clinic is absolutely freezing, and both today and last week, I was so cold that my hands were sort of purple-ish. None of the nurses suggested it (and I forgot to ask), but they all seemed surprised when I complained of being cold, despite the fact they all wore long sleeves.
So. We try again.
Anyway, like I said, I nommed a sub and then went home, where I collapsed into bed and fell into a deep sleep for three hours. This ended in a nightmare, so I wasn't all together unhappy when the cat woke me up, nuzzling my underarm until I figured out he hadn't been fed this morning.
Once out of bed, I went to the library. It's AMAZING, guys, there are BOOKS and you can take them home for FREE. I spent some time lurking around the YA section, and embarrassingly found myself on the verge of asking a customer if he needed assistance finding anything. I WAS SURROUNDED BY BOOKS, IT WAS A NATURAL INSTINCT. My haul includes The Absolutely True Story of a Part Time Indian, The Graveyard Book, Stargazer by Claudia Gray, and some histories.
I nearly grabbed a really interesting-looking book about Elizabeth I's role in creating the slave trade, but something about the blurb put me right off. Let me paraphrase:
So, no, I left that on the shelf and got a biography of Nellie Melba instead. And Barbara Hambly's novel about Mary Todd Lincoln, since I've exhausted the Benjamin January series.
AND NOW TO FIND DINNER! And watch some West Wing. Hey, you know how in the first episode of Secret Diary of a Call Girl, Belle/Hannah says, "I've never been addicted to anything. Except the third series of The West Wing." Does anyone find it kind of ironic that she's referring to the series that contains a really dodgy and stilted set of straw feminist arguments about legal prostitution? And is it just me, or is season three a bit ... flat?
(Thank you to the peeps on my Twitter feed, who were asking pertinent questions like, "are you a ghost? a vampire? a demigod?" and "Do you sparkle in the sunlight? Find people telling you you're not very cuddly? DO YOU HAVE THE SKIN OF A KILLAAAAAAH??????")
I was released after a few hours, to eat my own weight in meatball subs (not really, I just had one six inch sub) and stumble home. Next they recommend going straight to the pathology lab, where there are dedicated experts.
I'm very puzzled by this whole thing, because I've never before had problems with finding veins for blood tests. I drink heaps of water -- two litres before the test this morning -- so it can't be dehydration. (The nurse dude confirmed this.) I am wondering if heat might be the problem -- or the lack of it, rather. The air conditioning at the clinic is absolutely freezing, and both today and last week, I was so cold that my hands were sort of purple-ish. None of the nurses suggested it (and I forgot to ask), but they all seemed surprised when I complained of being cold, despite the fact they all wore long sleeves.
So. We try again.
Anyway, like I said, I nommed a sub and then went home, where I collapsed into bed and fell into a deep sleep for three hours. This ended in a nightmare, so I wasn't all together unhappy when the cat woke me up, nuzzling my underarm until I figured out he hadn't been fed this morning.
Once out of bed, I went to the library. It's AMAZING, guys, there are BOOKS and you can take them home for FREE. I spent some time lurking around the YA section, and embarrassingly found myself on the verge of asking a customer if he needed assistance finding anything. I WAS SURROUNDED BY BOOKS, IT WAS A NATURAL INSTINCT. My haul includes The Absolutely True Story of a Part Time Indian, The Graveyard Book, Stargazer by Claudia Gray, and some histories.
I nearly grabbed a really interesting-looking book about Elizabeth I's role in creating the slave trade, but something about the blurb put me right off. Let me paraphrase:
So, no, I left that on the shelf and got a biography of Nellie Melba instead. And Barbara Hambly's novel about Mary Todd Lincoln, since I've exhausted the Benjamin January series.
AND NOW TO FIND DINNER! And watch some West Wing. Hey, you know how in the first episode of Secret Diary of a Call Girl, Belle/Hannah says, "I've never been addicted to anything. Except the third series of The West Wing." Does anyone find it kind of ironic that she's referring to the series that contains a really dodgy and stilted set of straw feminist arguments about legal prostitution? And is it just me, or is season three a bit ... flat?
no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 07:22 pm (UTC)It has them when they're courting, before they get married, and there's this sexual tension between them and you start shouting "Oh my God, just do it already" and then you freeze and your mind explodes because YOU WANT ABRAHAM GODDAMNED LINCOLN TO HAVE SEX WTF.
(It was good though. I just couldn't get past my sudden need for Lincolnsex. THE HELL.)