This morning Jake and I were up bright and early to get to the hospital when the lab opened. Inwardly, I was real thankful that the receptionist had advised me to be early when I talked to her on Friday, because there was a line up.
We were first in line. How's that for early?
Jake is really taking this illness thing in stride, and instead of being anxious, he's reading all sorts of books about drugs and homeopathy and then lecturing me on possible treatment options. As we sat in the waiting area, he pulled out this 10 lb text book titled, "The Canadian Pharmacists Association Guide to Drugs in Canada" and proceeded to tell me all about the anti-inflammatories I'm currently on.
The people behind us were watching with interest.
"OH COOL! There's a centrifuge in there!" Jake peered through the glass into the lab in wonder. "Can I go in? Can I? I wanna see THAT!"
"Um, Jake, this isn't a field trip or a grand tour, they're taking blood out of me."
"But..." the puppy dog eyes ensue, and I suddenly have a vision of him distracting the nurse while she's trying to jab my arm with a needle. Not a good vision.
"NO. Sit and read your book."
Pretty soon it was my turn, and I gritted my teeth to get the business done. Ug.
"You'll never guess how many vials they took," I shook my head as we passed the the ER sliding doors. "NINE. They took NINE vials. Holy crap that's a lot of blood." I was beginning to feel a bit anxious. Some of those have to go to the city for obscure, scary testing, and some stay here...what if....
"You got any left, or should we refuel?" Jake started laughing as we parked in front of a nearby Starbucks. "I was good this time. Next time I have dibs on seeing the centrifuge."
Leave it to my 12 year old to make a not-fun thing into a light and funny moment. What would I ever do without my Jake?