Bloodeh day

If I had known that telling my Dad that I was dizzy at work would make me end up having to get in line to have a blood test at 9am, I would not have said anything. But yeah, I said it alright and even (stupidly) added that I've been getting headaches too. Now, that landed me an appointment with another doctor to discuss that. Luckily, there weren't that too many people so I didn't have to wait very long. I hate having these blood tests. I hate needles. The last time I had to do this, I asked the nurse if I could lie down instead because I was afraid I might do a Linda Blair and hurl bile (that's what you get if you're told to fast for 12 hours!) at the sight of the syringe and blood. I asked the nurse how many people she punctures everyday. "I'm not sure. I really don't count," she said. "They come in, sit down, I tie the arm, flick the vein, stick the needle in, and extract. They sit here for 5 minutes, then leave." It seemed like the most personal yet impersonal job in the world. So hungry I could have eaten a wombat, I dashed to Floating Island which is now much smaller than the original. They should have renamed it Floating Islet instead. It no longer had that cafeteria feel to it, what with the fancy coffee machine and bags of Lavazza brew on the shelves and all. After making up for the nutrients I lost in the last 12 hours, I went ahead and did the piss test. You know, someone really should provide bigger jars for it. It's such a messy ordeal having to target your piss in one small opening. I'm supposed to know the findings tomorrow after lunch when I go see my doctor. I hope it does not have anything to do with my cholesterol levels going off the charts again.