Who would she get today? Perhaps a young man with a charming smile; or a middle-aged woman with an experienced manner. She knew it wouldn’t matter, the outcome was consistently and depressingly predictable.
She fought the feeling of helplessness and as usual, strove to control her part. She prepared as prescribed, arriving on time, and registering. Then she waited, and waited and waited. After an eternity, she heard her name, and followed the unassuming young woman down the hall, into the tiny room.
In spite of her fear and dread, she dutifully spoke her lines clearly, reiterating the warnings and admonitions, relayed to her by the long line of earlier practitioners. After a third unsuccessful attempt, the “expert” joined the party. Shared dark humor about ‘rolling veins’ and ‘good veins, gone bad’, always precluded success; and a few stabs later, the mother lode was struck. She closed her eyes, daring not to breathe until it was over, lest her sigh of relief cause another uncontrollable roll or collapse.
Unsteadily, she returned to the waiting room, sensing that everyone was staring at her; at her many band-aids, and at the evident relief on her now ashen face. She didn’t care. Her ordeal was over…this time.
“Blood Work” is a bitch!
Written in response to Trifecta Week Sixty-One: Bitch (www.trifectawritingchallenge.com)
1: the female of the dog or some other carnivorous mammals
2a : a lewd or immoral woman b : a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman —sometimes used as a generalized term of abuse
3: something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant