I got my blood test done today. You know, the one I got the lab slip for like six months ago. Yeah, now I'm going to find out whether I have thyroid problems or I'm just crazy. I'm hoping for the thyroid problems, since they're a bit less complicated to fix.

Right, so, they stuck a needle the size of a pencil in my arm, ow, when they took the rubber band off, it hurt more, ow, they took four vials, ow, it's leaving this bruise, ow, I ate Burger King food afterwards and felt a little guilty about it, ow. OH POOR ME. Dammit, I promised myself I would never get that eat-and-feel-bad disease women have. I imagine the needle looked bigger because I decided I was going to watch just long enough to get and idea of when it would hit, and then I saw it on my poor arm and YEAH.

Oh, I knew what fasting meant when they asked me. I'm so smart. Tee hee.

From: [identity profile] runan.livejournal.com


Fasting? As in, not eating?

I remember getting my wisdom teeth out...the doctor couldn't find my vein so he had to keep jabbing that big horrible needle into my poor tender elbow-crook...I looked like a cocaine addict by the time he finally got the needle in.
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