Every three to four months, I'm required by my physician to have blood work done to monitor my medications. I'm not squeamish about having blood drawn, but I am squeamish about the entire process of sitting in the waiting room for an extended period of time with complete strangers.After reading all my emails, social media updates, and watching numerous pug videos on my cell phone, boredom sets in. As the saying goes, "An idle brain is the devil's workshop"....my thoughts run the gamut from recalling a meal I ate twenty years ago to imagining how panda bears mate.
I remember watching my mom at the kitchen sink when I was young----she talked to herself while doing the dishes. Now that I'm at that age, I find myself doing the exact same thing. Luckily, I'm not mumbling out in public....yet. But my brain never shuts up. And today, while sitting in the lab waiting room, my brain kept me fully entertained:
"Geez, this room is packed. I sacrificed two extra hours of sleep and set an early morning appointment just to avoid a long wait. Now there's only two seats left. One next to a geriatric man who looks older than Moses, and one next to a burly young man with a "Money Over Bitches" tattoo on his left shoulder. I suppose I could sit next to him and we could bond over our tattoos, but I don't think he'd appreciate the tiny squirrel inked on my thumb. Okay Moses, you win.""I wish my stomach would stop growling. No one else in this room has eaten in the past twelve hours, either. I don't hear their stomachs rumbling. Probably because they're not used to eating like a bear out of hibernation, like I do. No coffee, either, unless they like to drink it black. Beasts."
"Who is this elderly lady that wandered in? Oh Lord, she's talking to herself. Something about a yellow tabby cat that she owned when she was five. No no no, don't sit next to me. Don't make eye contact. It's too early for this shit, and I haven't had my coffee yet. I can't people right now."
"Is that a picture of a cheeseburger on the magazine cover? For the love of all that is holy, why would this place have food network magazines scattered across the table when they know damn well we've all been fasting for the past twelve hours? We should form a mutiny and steal all the employee sack lunches from the refrigerator.""Seriously, dude? No one wants to hear why you were unable to obtain a fecal sample for the lab this early in the morning. God, I need a cup of coffee...."
"Maybe I shouldn't have eaten steak and beets covered in butter last night for dinner. It might screw up my cholesterol numbers when the blood work comes back. If the numbers are too high, my doctor is going to think I eat entire sticks of butter for breakfast."
"There should be a little relaxation room here off to the side for people who have just completed their blood work. If the lab was smart, they'd sell flavored coffees and cinnamon buns. Or maybe even cheeseburgers, like that one on that food magazine cover. They'd make a fortune! Huh. Perhaps I'm onto something here..."
"I NEED TO PEE!"
"Oh great.....I've been sitting in this waiting room for thirty minutes, and now it's pouring outside. I can't drive home in that weather. I'll need a canoe just to navigate my way out of the parking lot. Forget that---it's raining harder. I'll need a yacht.
"Why the hell did that lady get called in before me? I was here first, and I had an appointment, too. And how can she look so good at this ungodly hour? Coiffed hair and perfect makeup. These people are lucky I didn't show up in my bathrobe and bunny slippers."
"Did the nurse just call my name? Yeah, it's MAR-SHA, not MAR-CEE-UH. That's fine---just find a vein quickly and gimme a cup to pee in. Hopefully those buttered beets won't show up in my test results."
I survived my visit to the diagnostics lab and made it home safely in the rain without having to hitch a ride on Noah's ark. However, I'm still disappointed that there were no cinnamon rolls or warm coffee waiting for me after my blood work. Next time, I'm raiding the employees' fridge.
