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Now, my port was often a trouble maker. Not really a trouble maker, but it was hard to access and sometimes I had to sing "Up on the Hill was a lonely goatherd...." with the yodeling part from The Sound of Music. It sounds silly, but it worked...and at least I had a decent voice so I could pull it off. This lady wasn't so inclined.
So, they had to stick her again for the blood draw. Is it my favorite thing? No. Is it do-able? Yes, and it is a necessity. I was amazed at how this lady complained and whimpered. You'd think she was having her arm amputated. I know how awful it is when phlebotomist doesn't hit a vein and digs around. But this wasn't the case. I'm also not happy when they put a catheter line in as that doesn't feel too pleasant either. But none of these warranted in my opinion her reaction.
Then, when I was in the room to get the Faslodex, the nurse kept on apologizing for the "stick" she gave me. Really? That is a tiny needle. I'm used to the big mamas they use to draw blood, access my port (when I had one), and put int he IVs. Big. Pokey. These little needles for injections are a piece of cake even though they do put in a lot of material and it is very thick. For me that is.
I was thinking about it and I realized that not everyone can handle pain. I know I have a high tolerance...at least it seems so as I don't complain about much...it has to be really bad before I do. So, I have to remember that others have low tolerances for discomfort.
I really feel sorry for them. I promise I will try not to be judgmental at the yelps and whimpers other people give.
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