The Dreaded TB Test

One of the steps of the application process, both for the State and County, is a physical and TB test. Basically the two departments want to ensure that we are healthy enough to physically take care of a child.

I hate needles.

When you’re a child and it’s time for your booster shots, your parents stuffed you in the car, strapped you down with the seatbelt, took you to the doctor, then forced you into the exam room while you screamed and cried. Well, at least that’s what my experience was like. It’s a whole new ball game once you reach adulthood. You don’t have anyone making you do anything. It is sheer willpower propelling you to the doctor’s office.

On my way to the doctor I received a text message from Jen, telling me that they have to draw blood to check our cholesterol levels. Two needles. Jeepers.

When I walked in to the exam room, I was very happy to see Jen sitting on a chair sipping water (her appointment was right before mine). As soon as I saw her, she stuck her arm out to show me a horrendous bloody bubble and said happily “It doesn’t hurt at all!”

Have you ever heard the phrase, “Liar, liar, pants on fire”? I was pretty sure that applied to my well-intentioned wife.

They decided to take the urine sample first, which was lucky since I had guzzled about a gallon of water an hour before the physical. I did my pee-pee dance all the way to the lavatory. Then they did all the basics: temperature, blood pressure, listened to my heart and lungs, and looked in my mouth (for what exactly, I don’t know).

Then the time came for the blood sample. I decided to lie down on the table because last time I had blood drawn I was quite sick, and instantly fainted. Even though I felt fine, I didn’t want to risk it. They used a “butterfly” needle, which is generally intended for children and is very thin, since I have such a tiny arm. As they were preparing my arm, Jen held my hand, smiling all the while. I looked at her, and said in my head, “it’s for the children!” I barely felt the needle. Once that was done, they did the TB test on the same arm. I didn’t look to see what they did; all I know is that it felt like something scraped hard against my skin, similar to when a cat digs its claws into you to launch itself at something.

Jen’s pants weren’t ablaze, but there was definitely a little smoke.