I’m really squeamish about needles, and all the blood I’ve been giving the last few months has only made things worse, rather than more tolerable through repitition. I guess part of the problem is that every time I give blood for a test now, it’s a mortifying reminder of what’s going on with me. I’m giving a few ounces of blood every couple of months to see whether or not the virus in me is still being suppressed.
So I worry about my health a little more when I go to the lab, and I also feel self-conscious about the scrutiny of the women at the lab. I know they have to be cautious with everyone, but I can’t deny that I’m part of the reason they have to be.
Today, I went to give some blood for my HIV genotyping test, and the woman taking the samples was new at the job, or at least so nervous or unskilled it seemed that way. She had trouble finding a vein, and spent a little too much time trying to intercept it without withdrawing the needle. It hurt like hell, and left my arm sore for the rest of the afternoon. That just made me more anxious, and I was feeling a little woozy again, except this time it was from nerves instead of hunger, like last time.