I was in the hospital from a major surgery. I was getting blood drawn first thing every AM. Think around 4-5. What a lovely wake-up call, huh? I am terrified of needles. By this point I could handle blood being drawn or an IV started. I had also had my baby less than a year prior to this, so I was *really* used to those things. Well between IVs and blood thieving my arms were covered in bruises and little holes. I had even had an IV put in the vein in the side of my thumb for a few days. Not an option you want to resort to. So this woman comes in and I tell her, like everyone who brings a needle around me with intent to stick, I am scared of needles. This actually helps me feel better for some reason. She didn't say anything. I never got a smile or good morning or anything from this woman. This was unusual for the hospital so far. It also made me a bit uneasy. She poked me, twice. Just above the wrist and about halfway up my lower arm, both on the inside. I should add - I have *pale* skin. My veins are close to the surface and dark. I have even had people tell me how easy I am to stick. No one has ever missed. There have been plenty of opportunities. I asked her to get someone else. My day nurse, an awesome woman that was like a protective mom, talked to the dr and he decided to stop blood work unless he saw reason to start again. Just the lack of even saying "hi" or anything them missing...twice...without so much as a sorry. And it hurt. Where she poked me bruised the worst.
The other one was when I was in physical therapy about a month later. My therapist was pregnant and kinda cranky (I am not saying all pregnant women are cranky. I was and was but I know some aren't.) I would do something and tell her it hurt. In PT in the hospital, they always said it should never hurt. Be a bit difficult and maybe uncomfortable, but never actually hurt. She told me to just keep going and it would get better. There were times I wouldn't actually do the workouts because they would put me in tears. She didn't notice because she was too busy talking on the phone or talking about her baby...to her boss...the head therapist. So there was no help there. I ended up going somewhere else. Tears do not equal good and keep going to a patient in rehabilitation.