18th August, Sunday.
Empty-stomach, gingerly holding a urine sample in one hand, I stood outside the pathology lab.
It had rained early in the morning. The ground outside the lab door was wet. While I fumbled with the straps of my floaters, trying not to step on the wet ground, a man and a kid stepped past me, slipped off their slippers and went in. Damn. Now I would be behind them in the queue. A waste of at least 10-15 mins.
A true metropolitan, I am always in haste. In spite of years of daily forced practice, waiting just doesn't come easy to me. So it was with some resentment that I sat there besides them on the bench lining the corridor. There was no one else in queue. So Man and Child were #1 and yours truly was #2. 'Good', I thought. 'Less time to wait'.
As we sat there waiting, another guy came and sat besides me. This was #3. As I gave him a once-over scan, the lab technician ushered Man and Child inside.
I should have shifted to occupy their vacated place. But lazybones that I am, I continued to warm my current patch of bench.
After a while, Mr #3 got up and occupied the recently vacated place near the door. I was suddenly very alert. What was this guy trying to pull on me? Was he planning to grab my #2 position? No way was I gonna allow him to one-up me.
So when the Man and Child left, and the lab technician opened the lab door, I perceived Mr #3 get up to grab an opportunity which was rightfully mine... I quickly moved past him, making no effort to hide the fact that I was blocking his way on purpose to get in before he did. It was a sudden move, effective and shamelessly ruthless. When it comes to my rightful piece of cheese, this city-bred lab-rat can be pretty ruthless, thank you.
As I went in and sat down, I saw Mr #3 looking in at me through the glass door, an incredulous expression still plastered ob his face. I looked him in the eye and gave him my best triumphant "finger" look. I must have been certainly pissed off that morning, to be so aggressive.
The lab technician asked me to hold out my right hand - balled fist, arm straight. He strapped the tourniquet above my elbow. Then took out a really giant syringe, and attached a very long needle to it...
I am ashamed to say this. But for a grown up guy in his thirties, I am still scared like hell of needle pricks. I avoid injections like a cat avoiding getting wet. The few times I had to give blood have been an ordeal. Not to me, to the lab technicians who have to run helter-skelter when I start sweating and break the news on them that I feel like fainting...
I asked a physician once what was wrong with me? He told me there was nothing physically wrong with me. My fear manifested all these symptoms. It was all in my mind.
So, as the lab technician rubbed some sweet-sour-pungent smelling spirit and then brought that needle near the fold of arm, I turned away, shut my eyes and began telling myself - 'Its all in the mind, buddy. Its all in the mind'...
I felt the needle prick. (Ouch)... And after a second or two, I felt another prick. And then another. And another... I thought, what the heck, how many litres of my blood were they gonna take? But I still had my eyes shut... Then I felt the tourniquet loosen and I looked...
The syringe was empty. The lab technician had, a worried look on his face. "I did not get any blood. Its not coming out..." he tells me. I know some of my colleagues call me an alien, but deep down I am pretty sure I am human (well, almost)... So where had all my blood gone?
I did not get more time to worry about my missing blood. For suddenly there were ants in front of my eyes. A buzzing in my ears. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I couldn't see clearly. It was like the receiving antenna of my brainevision was not receiving a strong enough signal from the eyes.
I told them I was feeling faint. So they asked me to keep seated. One guy handed me a glass of water. As I sat there trying in vain to convince my brain that 'Aal is well, aal is well, its all in the mind, dude', through the haze of ant-infested vision, I perceived the door open and Mr #3 step in. Damn, the gut would get his opportunity after all while I waited to get back to normal...
"What is it?", asked the lab technician.
"I just want my report", says Mr #3.
And he took his report and left...
So that was it. That's why he was in such a rush. It was a matter of a few seconds, nothing more. And I had been so unnecessarily aggressive and rude... All out of my haste...
I was finally able to give blood ( they took it out of the other hand), and as I stepped out of the lab, I decided to remember this lesson in humility and patience, as a I hastened and hurried my way home, dodging all the damn slow-moving idiots on the road...
Empty-stomach, gingerly holding a urine sample in one hand, I stood outside the pathology lab.
It had rained early in the morning. The ground outside the lab door was wet. While I fumbled with the straps of my floaters, trying not to step on the wet ground, a man and a kid stepped past me, slipped off their slippers and went in. Damn. Now I would be behind them in the queue. A waste of at least 10-15 mins.
A true metropolitan, I am always in haste. In spite of years of daily forced practice, waiting just doesn't come easy to me. So it was with some resentment that I sat there besides them on the bench lining the corridor. There was no one else in queue. So Man and Child were #1 and yours truly was #2. 'Good', I thought. 'Less time to wait'.
As we sat there waiting, another guy came and sat besides me. This was #3. As I gave him a once-over scan, the lab technician ushered Man and Child inside.
I should have shifted to occupy their vacated place. But lazybones that I am, I continued to warm my current patch of bench.
After a while, Mr #3 got up and occupied the recently vacated place near the door. I was suddenly very alert. What was this guy trying to pull on me? Was he planning to grab my #2 position? No way was I gonna allow him to one-up me.
So when the Man and Child left, and the lab technician opened the lab door, I perceived Mr #3 get up to grab an opportunity which was rightfully mine... I quickly moved past him, making no effort to hide the fact that I was blocking his way on purpose to get in before he did. It was a sudden move, effective and shamelessly ruthless. When it comes to my rightful piece of cheese, this city-bred lab-rat can be pretty ruthless, thank you.
As I went in and sat down, I saw Mr #3 looking in at me through the glass door, an incredulous expression still plastered ob his face. I looked him in the eye and gave him my best triumphant "finger" look. I must have been certainly pissed off that morning, to be so aggressive.
The lab technician asked me to hold out my right hand - balled fist, arm straight. He strapped the tourniquet above my elbow. Then took out a really giant syringe, and attached a very long needle to it...
I am ashamed to say this. But for a grown up guy in his thirties, I am still scared like hell of needle pricks. I avoid injections like a cat avoiding getting wet. The few times I had to give blood have been an ordeal. Not to me, to the lab technicians who have to run helter-skelter when I start sweating and break the news on them that I feel like fainting...
I asked a physician once what was wrong with me? He told me there was nothing physically wrong with me. My fear manifested all these symptoms. It was all in my mind.
So, as the lab technician rubbed some sweet-sour-pungent smelling spirit and then brought that needle near the fold of arm, I turned away, shut my eyes and began telling myself - 'Its all in the mind, buddy. Its all in the mind'...
I felt the needle prick. (Ouch)... And after a second or two, I felt another prick. And then another. And another... I thought, what the heck, how many litres of my blood were they gonna take? But I still had my eyes shut... Then I felt the tourniquet loosen and I looked...
The syringe was empty. The lab technician had, a worried look on his face. "I did not get any blood. Its not coming out..." he tells me. I know some of my colleagues call me an alien, but deep down I am pretty sure I am human (well, almost)... So where had all my blood gone?
I did not get more time to worry about my missing blood. For suddenly there were ants in front of my eyes. A buzzing in my ears. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I couldn't see clearly. It was like the receiving antenna of my brainevision was not receiving a strong enough signal from the eyes.
I told them I was feeling faint. So they asked me to keep seated. One guy handed me a glass of water. As I sat there trying in vain to convince my brain that 'Aal is well, aal is well, its all in the mind, dude', through the haze of ant-infested vision, I perceived the door open and Mr #3 step in. Damn, the gut would get his opportunity after all while I waited to get back to normal...
"What is it?", asked the lab technician.
"I just want my report", says Mr #3.
And he took his report and left...
So that was it. That's why he was in such a rush. It was a matter of a few seconds, nothing more. And I had been so unnecessarily aggressive and rude... All out of my haste...
I was finally able to give blood ( they took it out of the other hand), and as I stepped out of the lab, I decided to remember this lesson in humility and patience, as a I hastened and hurried my way home, dodging all the damn slow-moving idiots on the road...
1 comment:
Amazing and interesting post very well-written.
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