The Value of A Band-Aid

I went in to see my doctor today for some routine blood tests. I used to have a hellacious fear of needles, but through the years I have been lucky enough to encounter some great nurses. The technician today was no exception; she's frequently taken blood samples from me before, and her gentle touch & extreme care makes it relatively painless everytime. She always remembers me when I sit down it the chair:

"I'm fine-" I start...

..."I know, as long as you don't SEE the needle," she finishes. We smile at each other & I close my eyes while she wraps the rubber tourniquet around my left bicep. A tiny poke, and I don't even feel the blood coming out this time. She pulls out the needle & puts a small piece of gauze on the area, telling me to hold it firmly. A moment later, I'm on my way to front desk to pay my co-pay.

As I'm standing there, I feel something crawling across my fingertips, put I pay it no attention at the moment. The nurse behind the desk points to me and says something, but I didn't understand her.

"Your bannnnnfff..." she says.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask.

"Your banddfff...your banndff...." she says, pointing.

"My what?" I repeat, looking down. It was that moment I realized she was saying Band-Aid, because my entire left arm was now covered with blood that was dripping off my fingers.

And with that, I promptly passed out.

I have never passed out in my life (without alcohol), so I actually found it funny when I came to & three concerned faces were hovering over me. Just like in the movies! The nurse, the receptionist & the lab technician helped me to a nearby chair, when the technician commented, "Obviously I can't let you see your blood, either..."

And with that, it is official. I am a bonafide, complete & total wuss. I will now carry Band-Aids with me at ALL times.