A Phlebotomist's Sentiment
(The untold story of the person who extracts your blood)
Phlebotomy. The act of drawing or removing blood
from the circulatory system through a cut (incision) or puncture in order to
obtain a sample for analysis and diagnosis.
It
is my everyday responsibility to draw blood from patients who are either
fasting, sick, infectious, critically ill or those who are just simply having
their routine check-up. This is my norm. Society probably thinks of it as the
simplest task that is performed by the laboratory. Probably. But would the word
“simple” or “simplest” suffice the description of the duty as a phlebotomist?
Perhaps
not. The technique is rather hard and takes a lot skill before you can manage
to have a confidence of drawing blood. Honestly, even those whose have years of
experience can still encounter some difficulty.
This
is the real picture. We wake up early in the morning to make it to our 6am
shift. Most of the time, most of us don’t even have our breakfast. I guess that
makes us the same with patients who are fasting. So we really get annoyed when
patients complain about how hungry they are. Of course you can’t tell it to
their face. But if patients would really want to be first in line, then why not
come earlier? That seems logical to me.
I
understand why people don’t like us. Who would? How can you like somebody who
is going to stick you with a needle? Blood extraction would definitely hurt. I
clearly understand why nurses get the commendations because they can show and
express their affection when taking care of a patient. I would like a person
who smiles at me and asks me what I want, what I need, what I feel then fixes
my bed while I am still at bed. But definitely not the person who enters my
room, pierce me with a needle then leaves me saying “thank you!”. But despite
being disliked, this is my job.
