Welcome to my blog! Hear life changing words, juicy secrets, and plenty of drama! Well, not really. But what you will get answered is this: What random things are flitting through Petty's mind the few moments a month she manages to get on to here?

Saturday, July 12, 2014

A Trip to the Doctor's

Today was our "annual" (note the sardonic quotes around annual) doctor's visit. Turns out, I should be eating healthier and exercising more, which came as a surprise. Even though that the visit today was the first time I left the house in about a week.

The visit started with an awkward survey that I had to fill out with my mother, with questions such as "Do you or anyone you know drink alcohol often?" (yes) and "Do you always wear your seatbelt when you're in the car?" (no) and "Are you sexually active?" (hell no). Of course, this immediately made me think "What does sexually active even mean?" I didn't understand my own reference to Juno for several minutes, and spent them wondering what the heck I meant.

Survey was done, and then my sister and I were shunted through halls and hurried through the regular junk: blood pressure, height, weight, etc. I mentioned that I wore glasses, and then I was compelled to also admit that I wasn't wearing them, nor was I wearing contacts. The nurse who'd been asking plastered a slightly irritated smile on her face then said, "Well, I guess we'll just have to test you without them, hmm?"

I did the seeing test, while my sister did the hearing test at the same time to save time. This arrangement was perfectly fine, that is, until we both finished and switched. That was when I knew that this just wasn't going to word.

The hearing testers were these massive head phones that covered the entirety of one's ears to block out noise; or they would if they fit properly. The band was too big for my head (big surprise- nothing fits my head) so the head phones slid halfway down my ears. On top of this already awkward arrangement, my sister was a foot away booming out in her loud voice, "D, E, C, D, O, K...", so I was forced to strain my ears to catch the minute sounds being emitted an inch below my ears.

Needless to say they told me that I probably had a few hearing problems.

Aside from the rather disastrous test, there was nothing major wrong with me. However, it seemed that it'd been a few years since they'd tested my blood. As much as I attempted to impress upon my doctor that really, there was absolutely no need to test my blood for anything, she still just shook her head and said I was due for it.

I was number 174. The other people weren't taking too much time in the shot room, but every person who left had a massive gauze bandage taped to their inner arm, allowing the observer to too easily exaggerate the wound beneath the pile of absorbent fabric.

Waiting in the waiting room was possibly more nerve wracking than the actual shot itself; especially in the case of number 170. 

I didn't notice who'd gone in for number 170, but I noticed that whoever they were they were taking an awful lot of time; three minutes, five minutes, ten minutes... Right at the fifteen minute mark, when I'd begun to panic for number 170, a man was wheeled out in a wheelchair, completely passed out, with a large bandage (well, larger than the other ones) strapped to his arm. After he'd been wheeled out, they didn't call another number immediately after like they generally did. They waited another five or ten minutes before continuing to 171.

Needless to say it was slightly unnerving.

My blood was drawn with no fuss whatsoever, and the technicians in the lab seemed to be perfectly unfazed. But still, I had to wonder what happened to poor 170.

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