While the other nurses were flitting around making up baby beds and calling up doctors, the nurse who checked me in brought in her IV kit. She was a very nice lady, chatty, but not annoying. She got all ready to do the IV, and I turned my head away, telling her this part was about as bad as having the baby. I've never had bad luck with an IV. I have pretty 'bulgy' veins in my arms, and even at my lowest, most dehydrated pitiful weight when my veins seemed to be shriveled up to nothing, the nurses were able to find one for blood.
She got started with the initial sting on my lower left arm. I froze, gritted my teeth, and waited for the pain to subside, but it didn't. There was some jabbing and digging. Then a sigh.
"Well your vein started to cooperate, but now it just won't," she said. I looked over to see the vial with just a few bloody bubbles inside. Ew. "Your veins roll really easily here," she said. "I'll put one in your hand, that should work better," she tried to console.
Great, I thought. I don't want the IV in my hand. It's too hard to keep it from setting off the alarm. Every time I bend my wrist or move, it will pull. Ugh.
(Note to self: Be careful what you wish for....)
"Ok, I'm about to start. Try not to jerk this time."
Um what? I thought, locking my jaw again. I'm pretty sure I didn't jerk anything.
I began to become irritated, but I kept a lid on it. Tried to let it roll and not get flustered.
The sting again.
And the digging.
Poking.
More stinging.
Tears welled up in my eyes. She kept saying sorry, but I didn't acknowledge her this time. I sat, gaze fixed away, trying not to let the tears fall.
"UGGGGGH!" she groaned. "Your veins are NOT cooperating and I am getting VERY FRUSTRATED!" she said with a little fury.
Oh I'm sorry. Let me give them a stern talking-to and see if they are a little more cooperative for you...
"I won't try more than twice. You'll hate me the rest of the time you're here," she said. I smirked a little, thinking one more try probably wouldn't make me hate her any MORE than I already did at that point. I probably could've over-looked it if she hadn't made that comment about jerking. Or *MY* uncooperative veins. I wasn't going to blame her, but she jumped right into blaming my body, so I figured tit for tat.
"I'll send someone else in to try," she said.
I looked down at my arm, red already, a knot on my hand, and the tears stung almost as much as the needle.
First attempt...
Second try =/
And in came Miss P. She was the nurse who was with me when I delivered Chloe. I felt so comforted. I knew she'd been nursing there for a long time, and I felt like if anyone could help, she could. She not only slid the IV in with one quick swoop, but she also sensed my mood and knew how to talk to me. She said she'd heard I'd been tested as a pin cushion and wasn't liking it very much. She was kind, yet still had a sense of humor. She was gentle, yet did what she needed to do.
She pulled three vials of blood for testing and never once crammed the needle further into my vein. She left nothing more than a little pin-hole when she was finished. I thanked her, and she said anytime I need an IV just holler at her. She'd be glad to stick me ;)
And the spot where I actually *had* an IV for almost 24 hours...
No comments:
Post a Comment