I’ve never been accused of being a waif. In fact, the Scotts are an ample clan. Not huge, by any means, but solid. Round. Rubenesque, if you will.
(All except my brother, who’s always been built like a professional rock climber. Asshole.)
I had boobs when I was, like, eleven, and my big, black ex-boyfriend used to effuse about my “sista booty”. My thighs are thick, my fingers like lovely little sausages…Vienna sausages. Everything about me is a bit bigger than it needs to be.
So imagine my surprise to find that I have tiny
tiny
tiny
veins.
I went to have blood drawn, and the nurse tried my right arm, my left arm, and my left hand. Then she called for back-up. The second nurse had me take off my shoes so she could try to tap a vein in my foot. No dice.
I have to go back on Monday. The second nurse told me to drink a lot of water, and she would try to procure a pediatric needle for the next whack at it.
I am convulsing just thinking about this experience, and then to have to go back for a repeat performance! You are definetly a braver person than me.
me, i got veins like a horse.
Angie, yes, the sweating, shaking, and hyperventilating aside, I was very brave.
Margo, I asked my mom this morning if she had tiny veins, and she said, “I have fire hoses.”
i usually have to have 2 nurses in there with me too – one to do the work and the other to make sure i survive (wet cloth on forehead, laying down, funny stories to distract, etc.) . . . and they can never even FIND a vein on me to use. multiple pricks with no success are wicked fun. doctors = ick.