A Heaping Helping of Crazy

I liken phlebotomy lab waiting rooms to the DMV…

As I’ve mentioned before Cutie Pie has to have blood work done every so often to ensure that his medicine is working.  From the time he was six days old we went to the hospital to have his blood drawn.  But they don’t take our insurance anymore.  The phlebotomists at the hospital lab are so wonderful.  They knew us by name and were so sweet to Cutie Pie.  We miss them.

As a result of the hospital nixing our insurance, we’ve been forced to look elsewhere for a lab.  Luckily there is one right around the corner from where we used to go that has online appointment booking.  That’s huge for us!  Let’s face it, no matter how good they are, waiting with a three-year-old sucks after the novelty of the toys you brought wears off.  I can only take so many waiting room couch dives, loud questions about every other person in the very quiet waiting room, 1,257 requests for a drink/snack, and demands to use my phone/camera/purse/etc…

We have an appointment with the pediatric endocrinologist on Thursday so we had to go in for blood work on Tuesday afternoon.  I was surprised to see that the waiting room was completely vacant when we arrived.  Usually the place is overrun with people from all walks of life, like the DMV.  I was not expecting too much of a wait since there were no other people ahead of us on the list.

We had just settled into our seats when Crazy burst through the door.  I don’t know how else to describe the bug-eyed gypsy who breezed into the room talking to herself.  Much to my delight, she signed in and took a seat directly across from us.

I was playing solitaire on my iPhone while Cutie Pie was alternately running laps around the room and rearranging the furniture.  Crazy was staring at me.  I was trying to ignore her but it was hard when she finally flagged Cutie Pie down and asked him how many fingers he was.  He stopped running long enough to look over and say THREE then continued on with his mission!  I had my momvision turned up watching the interaction.

Then Crazy turned her attention back to me with the wide-eyed stare.  In my mind I was wondering exactly how long it was going to take for them to call us back.  That’s when Crazy got up and came over to me.  She began admiring my purse by oo-ing and ahhing and petting it.

That’s right.

Petting it.

She asked me where I got it and how much I paid for it.  Then she launched into a story about how her recent weekender bag purchase from QVC did not work out.  She had to send it back because there was no way she was paying $225 for a bag that she would only use 2-3 times a year.  Why she ordered it in the first place, I’ll never know.  I don’t want to know.

As she was talking to me, she paced the floor.  She’d be in my face then sitting down across from me then walking around in front of me.  It was all very strange.  I managed to snap a quick photo of her while pretending to play solitaire.  I could not resist.  This woman was like a charactiture.

I was so happy when they finally called our name.  Cutie Pie was just thrilled to finally have access to the water cooler in the back with the awesome paper cone cups.  He was dying to pour himself a drink.  Although I had to intervene when I wanted to rest the cone cup full of water by the clerk’s computer.  Ack!

The good news is that Cutie Pie did just as well as he did during our last visit.  He did not cry when they stuck him.  In fact, he smiled and said that it did not hurt.  I am so glad that he is not afraid of the process or traumatized by it.

He got three stickers for his bravery.