In addition to routine blood tests, for which my poor wife had to endure three punctures, she had another procedure which involved three additional punctures before success. It wasn’t as bad as it has been in the past; there are some heavy handed blood drawers out there. Occasionally, the phlebotomist listens to my wife, who knows her own veins like… well, like the back of her hand, or her forearm, and the needle finds its appropriate home immediately.
The watercolor sketch below tells a couple of stories. Even though the nurse’s hands are gloved, one can tell the delicate touch of a caring individual. One of my wife’s hands, is dutifully clenching, the other is pointing out a possible alternative site for the needle stick.