fiber diva

This is the chronicle of one woman's forays into knitting, crocheting, spinning, embroidery, papercrafts, and whatever else catches my fancy at any given time. Oh, and I talk about my cats a lot, too.

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Having a "delicate" week

A friend of mine at work recently introduced me to the term "delicate week," which she explained as one of those weeks in which nothing seems to be going well, so that by about mid-week, even when things go ok, your paranoid little brain twists it around so that you feel like it didn't go well anyway. And so, despite surviving a difficult meeting that I'd been dreading for at least a month and that in the words of my boss's boss, "couldn't have gone better" I find myself unable to really relax.

Not helped by the fact that I gave blood this morning and had a really unpleasant experience. I give blood pretty much every 2 months, when I'm eligible again. Although I have, on the odd occasion, had to have my hemocrit checked a second time (I was deferred once---but that was when I was on the "modified Trappist monk" [0 fat] diet in prep for my gall bladder surgery, and I wasn't paying enough attention to getting iron), I'm not usually freaked out by the experience, and I don't usually have any trouble.

Today I was freaked out, though. First there was some kind of problem with my hemoglobin the first time they checked in (requiring a second finger stick), then the worker there accidentally "deferred" me because of my asthma (not usually a problem as long as I'm breathing ok that day, which I was). So by the time I was laying on the cot and I started hearing that the woman next to me had them miss her vein and have to get someone else over to try again, I was starting to freak a little. Unfortunately, I didn't take my own usual advice and let them know that I was having a rough time.

The situation was not helped by the attitude of the worker taking my blood, which started out bored and uncaring, merged into sullen silence, took a little detour to outright unfriendly, and finally circled back to muttering instructions at a point just past my left shoulder because making eye contact was apparently more than she had energy for. She never stopped back to check if I was doing ok---and maybe that's as well, because there were a couple of points where I was debating asking them to take the needle out and let me leave. of course I didn't stay in the canteen very long and then noticed, as I was driving off to run my weekend errands, that the little square of bandage over the site had a patch of red...that was expanding. Now I'm not a nurse, but I kinda take the spreading red patch as a bad thing. I'm also not usually upset by the sight of blood, but, perhaps because of the "delicate week" thing, I was again quietly freaking out as I figured out where to turn around while steering with my bleeding left arm so that I could use my right arm to apply a napkin and pressure.

By the time I got back there, the bleeding had stopped again, but I did want them
give me a new bandage, since I didn't want to freak out the other shoppers or, well, frankly, myself again.

And the good news---I'm using my "delicate week" and that experience to justify going to Micheal's and using a 25% off coupon sent me by a friend (thanks, Pat!) to buy makings for more stitch markers. Because nothing says "it's ok; you're ok; next week will be better" better than shiny, sparkly jewelry for my knitting! (Ok, sure, yes there are things that would cheer me up faster and more, but I really shouldn't have a huge ice cream sundae, Gerard Butler continues *not* to call, and I can actually afford sparkly jewelry for my knitting ;-).