So my doctor wants to check my thyroid and I go down to the lab to get some blood work taken. The person who eventually calls my name is a no-nonsense African-American woman wearing one of those turquoise medical coats with a bunch of bright designs all over it.
I have found in previous experiences that the best way for me to forget about the fact that a needle is getting stuck in my arm is to be chatty. She hikes up my shirt sleeve and I point to the vein that works best (yes, I have had enough blood taken in my life to know which vein works best) and she ties one of those plastic things around my arm and I make a fist and we're good to go.
I ask her how many times she's done this today (since, by then it was about 4:45 and I imagined she'd been there for awhile). She says, "Just wait a minute." Fine, I think, she must be concentrating. While she's drawing blood I look around and tap my foot and sing to myself and do just about anything I can to keep myself from paying attention to what's going on to my left.
Then it's done. I look over and she's taken two nice little vials full of the red stuff. Wow, I tell her, you're good. That wasn't bad at all.
Nothing. Not a smile. No nod. Nothing.
After she puts the bandaid on, she looks at my chart, then looks at me. Looks at my chart. Looks at me. She peers up over her glasses and completely matter-of-factly says:
"You get seizures?"
"No," I said. "Why...?"
"Just curious." She snaps my chart shut and then curtly says, "You can go."
Anyone out there with a semblance of a medical background have a clue as to why I may have been asked that question?
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