Day 1149 Bloodsucker

3rd October 2020

We drove to the doctors surgery for my medical, I was slightly apprehensive about being probed and fiddled with.

He told me to remove my clothes, I asked him where I should put them.

“On top of mine” he replied.

Okay I know it’s an old joke, but I kept thinking about it just to cheer me up.

The address was in some obscure building behind a Dollar Store, a real unlikely place.

It took us quite a while to find it, the GPS just took us around in circles with Kelli getting angrier by the minute.

I purposely didn’t have coffee for breakfast as I didn’t want it to mess up any blood pressure readings. I didn’t use the toilet before we left as I thought I might have to give a urine sample.

I walked into the place, if life was not depressing enough, this was the epitome. Dull stained carpets, dead flies on the window sill, and horrible utility chairs that would better off in a skip.

I approached the reception area and was given a form to fill and a symptom checklist, I then waited my turn.

The place had a collection of African and Asian people all clutching their papers.

One by one they went into the back area emerging a few minutes later handing back forms to the administrator.

Then it was my turn.

I was greeted by a short Mexican doctor who led me in to the small back room.

He asked me to sit on the bed and then began the strangest medical examination I could ever have imagined.

First he held my ankles, moving up to my neck. Extending his hands he wanted me to grip them hard and resist him pulling them away. Finally he listened to my innerds with a stethoscope, then it was done, no blood, no urine no nothing.

He scribbled away on the forms, handing them back to me, saying that I looked healthy, and should not have a problem with medical part of the residency process.

I then sat in the waiting area forever whilst the administrator looked after other patients/ victims.

Finally I was up, the administrator, who’s job it is to type up the official paperwork wanted my immunisation details.

I handed over the details of the inoculations I had when I went to India, some of which satisfied the requirements.

Once the paperwork was done he informed me that I had to go to a lab to have the blood and urine samples.

That was a blow, I thought I’d got away with it.

Having just used the toilet, giving a sample might be challenging.

The charge for the medical was $275, a bloody con, and the cost of the sample test would be another $250, guess it’s baked beans on toast for the rest of the month.

The testing centre was several miles away, it was full with the people who were in front of me at the doctors, so another long wait was anticipated.

Kelli went off to look round some shops, I just sat around thinking about all the better things I could be doing.

Eventually I was called into the back area. The nurse led me to a consultation room, she carried a tool carrier with unpleasant implements sticking up.

She showed me to the toilet, removing a plastic container from the cupboard. She told me to produce a sample and then place it in a wall safe, or that’s what it looked like. That was good timing, as I was now bursting. I could have easily filled ten of these containers, but judging when it was full was difficult, I just kept going. I had to get the timing absolutely right, finish filling the sample, then the rest in the toilet without spillage. Fortunately there were no disasters, a good sample was left in the designated receptacle.

Now it was the blood sample, I think I had one once before, but the trauma itself blocked it out of my memory.

The nurse tapped on my arm near the elbow, I had the feeling this was new to her. Maybe she was normally the cleaner, and used to knocking pipes. The needle went in, the horrible sensations came back to me.

The needle went deeper, I expected it to poke out the other side, instead I heard her mutter “Ruptured the vein” by which she hurriedly stuck a plaster on it, and started on the other arm. She didn’t have much luck on that one, leaving me with several holes covered with sticking plasters.

She was beaten, she had to call in reinforcements.

In came Brad, he had the appearance of an ex navy seal, or maybe he just smelt of fish, anyway, he rummaged in his took box and pulled out a number of plastic pipes.

“ This should do it, I’ll use a smaller needle, goes in with less pain, but will take longer to suck it all out”

By now I was passed caring, I hadn’t passed out, so I felt I could manage it.

The time he took felt he had sucked up my entire arm, then there was light, the needle came out to be replaced by another sticking plaster.

The ordeal was over, Kelli was waiting outside in the truck waiting to drive back home, stopping to pick up a furniture piece on the way, as we do.