2007-06-14
happy birthday to me
Sorry! Here's your update:
Today, like yesterday, we're on the blood-draw-every-half-hour schedule. Happy birthday to me! My arms are bruised and my veins are shot--I look like a battered woman with a heroin habit. I've been trying to charm/bribe/beg the nurses into giving me an hour off, but they're having none of it. They're only in it for the blood. Bunch of vampires.
Eleven hours into my nineteenth year of life and it looks like my magnetic draw to awkward moments is no weaker than it was at eighteen. Witness: my morning ECG was carried out by The Hot Nurse. That might sound good to you, but only if you've never had an ECG and hence have never heard "If you could, uh, go ahead and, uh, lift up your shirt..." from the mouth of a Tom Welling look-alike while a roomful of people in labcoats and hospital scrubs looks on. A day in my life or a scene in a low-budget porn film? Sometimes even I can't tell.
In the absence of cake, I intend to celebrate by spending the whole day in bed with Barack Obama--in book form, of course. (Christ. For a ninteen-year-old, I sure seem to have the sense of humor of an eleven-year-old boy.)
Ok. I'm due in the lab for another draw. Wish me luck?
zebrasaur at 11:56 a.m.
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