the lost veins of Atlantis

I have unusually tiny veins that hardy, if ever, show at the surface of my skin, even at the best warm, happy and exercised of times. In hospital and stressful situations they become the missing aeroplanes of the Bermuda Triangle and the lost city of Atlantis.

An IV attachment needs to remain in until I am officially taken off the heart monitor, even though nothing is actively flowing through it anymore. It is a hospital precautionary policy in case of emergencies.

We had to switch the installed attachment from my left hand to another willing yet unsuspecting vein.

My nurse last night was a Trinidadian lady named Teresa (last name not Mother, but could just as well be) she is a gem. Mum sold her one of my books the other night and when I woke up for my meds she had me sign it. It was hilarious and awesome. (And by that I mean I have no idea what I wrote)

Teresa removed the old IV to the resounding cheers of my numbing fingers and aching hand, then started the search for a new spot to insert.

We tried a few options with no luck. The irony of having large multiple tattoos and yet hating blood and IV needles to cold sweat and fainting proportions is a topic of much attention.

“But you have tattoos, how can you hate needles?” Said the kindly nurses

“They use different kinds of needles” I replied making a squishy I-don’t-like-it-face.

In order not to hurt me anymore she said she would get the head nurse to come in later to try again.

So I fell asleep and a few hours later another kind soul, brandishing a needle with a vein sized insertion tube came in.

“But you have tattoos….”

“They use different kinds of needles…” Insert squishy I-don’t-like-it-face.

After a few attempts she found a willing spot on the inside of my right forearm. (The exact spot Popeye would likely tap a spinach line into.)

I told her that we could still be friends even though she woke me up to stick needles into my sleeping skin. But tattoos did use totally different, less stupid needles and you at least are left with something nice to look at for your efforts. She liked that, I suspect the head nurse secretly wants to get some ink.