I shared the following amusing experience with Jane in an e-mail last Wednesday, July 11, 2012, that I thought was worth passing along:
Yesterday (July 10, 2012), I had an amusing experience giving a blood sample for testing before I see my cancer doctor next Monday, who I see once every four months. A very sweet and attractive and kind (and very married!) woman in her late 30s named Tonia was the phlebotomist who drew my blood and we've always had a rather teasing, flirting relationship. And in my many, many years of "doctoring" which included MANY pokes for blood draws, Tonia is, by far, the least painful of them all---sometimes she can do it without causing any pain at all. One thing about Tonia is that she always looks like she just stepped out of a beauty shop, her hair always looks very good.
I actually had Tonia do a blood draw the day before on Monday, but she called me yesterday afternoon to tell me that the Monday sample didn't get sent off in time which led to clotting and, thus, useless, so she very apologetically asked me to come in again to have another blood sample drawn. I told her not to feel bad and I'd be glad to make the ~8 mile out-of-my-way round trip to do it again. When I sat down for the blood draw (which is in a rather confined area that connects the lab with the large commonway of the cancer center), Tonia once again told me she felt bad about my needing to come back out again and I once again told her that she shouldn't since it wasn't her fault, at all. To try to express a rather delicate point, I carefully explained to Tonia, "I hope that you take this the right way, but if you were like a 300 pound Russian woman weightlifter named Helga,..........then it would be a little different."
Tonia smiled and I could tell that she felt flattered and Tonia gently replied, "I think that I know what you're trying to say."
As she eased the needle into the pit of my right elbow, just seconds later, a woman who I'd say was late 50s--early 60s, with very short brown and grayish hair, who was a bit overweight and on the short side, walked out of the adjoining lab and right behind Tonia and she deadpanned, "If it was me taking his blood, he probably wouldn't want to come back out here," and she kept on walking.
Tonia and I burst out laughing and I could tell that Tonia was a bit embarrassed and after our laughter subsided, I asked Tonia, "Do you think that'll get around?" and Tonia replied, "I wouldn't be surprised."
