I am sure that it doesn’t surprise you to hear the child of a nun and a monk lives in constant fear that God will punish her if she acts out in anyway. I would like to say that this fear of mine is irrational, but it’s proven time and time again. Or, maybe I am wrong. Perhaps it’s a little ole thing we call karma.
Let me start by telling you a story about one of my best friends’ growing up. Her name is Amy. Amy and I have known each other since we were in kindergarten. We have been through everything together including many doctors’ appointments. I used to love to go with her because she always passed out when she saw a needle. I was highly entertained. I would laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more until she would wake up. Little did I know God, or karma, was sitting right there in the room with us just waiting to pay my ass back.
Fast forward to 10 years ago. I went for my annual physical and they decided to run some blood tests. Sure, no problem. I walk into this room with a phlebotomist, a table, and three chairs. Someone is getting their blood drawn and there is a mother and a child up next. The kid is crying hysterically and the mom is trying to calm him down. She leans to me and says, “Do you mind going next?” Sweet, less waiting at the doctor, what did I do to score such luck?
I sit down and I can hear the mother. “Watch the big girl go. Don’t you want to be a big boy? Look at the big girl. She’s not crying.” Meanwhile the needle is in my arm and I ask the phlebotomist, “Is it hot in here?” He rolls his eye, “No.” “Hum, it feels really hot in here. Why are the lights blinking?” With an even more annoyed response he says, “The lights aren’t blinking.” I say, “Ok, but you must have a fever because it’s really hot…” Next thing I know I am dreaming I am riding on a bus.
Suddenly I wake up on the floor with the phlebotomist standing over me and I can hear the little kid screaming at the top of his lungs, “I don’t want to die mom, I don’t want to die!” The phlebotomist picks me up and says with a smartass tone, “You know you should warn people that you pass out when they take your blood!” I look at him and say, “Fucker! I told you it was hot and the lights were blinking! Was that not a sign?!”
Fast forward again to yesterday. I take Minnie, my vagina, in for her annual physical. The doctor gives me the same lecture. “It’s time to have a baby. You’re in your late thirties Jeannette!” “Ok doctor! I hear you!” I figure, while I am there, I may as well get my blood tests done. My gyno walks me into the phlebotomist’s office. I immediately say, “May I lay down for this? I pass out.” My gyno says, “Oh no, it’s ok. Judy is an expert.” I say, “That cool. I still think I should lay down.” My gyno pats me on the shoulder. “No, don’t worry. Judy is really an expert. You’ll be okay!”
So I sit down and Judy lays five blood vials on the counter. I am sitting straight up. She has me squeeze a little ball and ties the rubber thing around my arm. In goes the needle and sweet Judy is just talking away. “That’s a great story Judy. Is it hot in here?” “Yea, it’s a little warm.” I exhale heavily, “Ok. It feels really hot.” Vial one is done. “Um Judy, are the lights blinking?” “I didn’t notice, but they could be.” I exhale again, “Ok. Judy can I loosen up the grip on this ball?” Judy says in her ever so sweet voice, “No honey, but we are almost there.” “Ok Judy, how many more vials?” With a chipper response, “Just 3.” “Ok Judy, are you sure it’s not hot in here? Do I have to keep squeezing this ball? I think the lights are blinking again Judy. Judy, it’s really hot…” And off to dreamland I go! Oddly enough riding on that same school bus.
I wake up, face first on the table. Needle half way through my arm. My gyno and Judy are preventing me from falling out of the chair. I open my eyes and Judy says, “Don’t move Jeannette, we need to get the needle out of your arm!” I see the needle and back on that bus I go. I am awoken by my gyno slapping the shit out of me and I scream, “See, I am not ready to have a baby, I can’t even give blood!” My gyno says, “Oh delivering a baby is much easier than this!” I fall out of the chair, flat on my back, and say, “You’re right. Minnie is way tougher than I am!”
Needless to say, either God is punishing me for making fun of Amy all those years ago, or karma is a blood-sucking bitch!
Onward and upward…sometimes on and sometimes off of the bus!