What Goes Around...

"He'll stay for a couple of days, completing medical in-processing, (including providing the ever popular stool sample; every lab technician's favorite!)". Remember those words? From a little post published 23 July? If not, allow me to recap.  I was talking about the process Steven was going to have to go through once he arrived in country, and laughing inside while writing it. I made sure to tease him, asking how bad could it be? Turns out--BAD. Really, really bad. But let me backup.

I've started looking at the residence visa requirements, making sure I complete each step in the proper time frames since they expire at different times.  The biggest requirement was a complete medical physical. The form the results are to be documented on use a lot of acronyms and abbreviations, so I wasn't really sure in advance what tests would need to be run. I presented the forms to my doctor (in triplicate, each needing to be filled out separately; no copies allowed) and thankfully, she took the extra work in stride. I spent the next 45 minutes undergoing the typical tests-hearing, vision, blood pressure, TB, etc.  I had completed my woman's wellness exam on a previous visit, so I was congratulating myself on a fairly painless visit, I mean, I hadn't even had to undress. I was feeling confident, downright cocky when my doctor looked up from her tablet, (remember when doctors had paper records on clipboards?!) and said I was all done. Next, I'd need to head over to radiology for a chest x-ray, (no problem!), then on to the lab for some bloodwork, (still no problem, never been afraid of blood or needles) and a stool sample. WHAAATT!?!?  You know in the movies, that sound that indicates when things are going wrong? The needle of a record player scratching across the record? That was my brain. I couldn't process her words. A stool sample?!

It was with great trepidation I settled into the lab chair. I'm sure the technician was nice; I vaguely remember making chit chat, but honestly, my brain was on auto-pilot.  After 7 full vials of blood, (I counted, I'd never had so much blood drawn!) she was done. She reached into a cupboard and pulled out a package. Opening the clear plastic bag, she did a quick inventory. The larger cup was for "catching the specimen", the two smaller vials was its final destination. I was completely mentally unprepared. "Umm, I'm not ready, can I come back another day?", I asked. She laughed, told me I could do the whole thing at home and bring it back.

So skipping ahead, I'd love to give you all the details, just so you can feel my pain. However, my husband (who apparently has a greater sense of propriety than I do) made me promise not to get graphic. Believe me when I say, the words circus, crapshoot, (haha, couldn't resist) and nightmare don't begin to describe the process. It involved some cursing, some laughing, and a lot of frustration! If pictures are indeed worth a thousand words, then here's the full story:

Please tell me you noticed the little "spork" spatula? I'll never be able to view the Taco Bell ones the same way again!

My favorite part of this picture?: Don't drink! The skull and crossbones is a nice touch too! 

So not only was I just subjected to one of the most humiliating experiences ever, but I have to be cautioned not to drink it. Too much!!

So it's been two weeks since then... I've been huddled on the floor of my shower trying to wash the memory of that violation from my mind and my iPad's taking on a lot of water. Guess it's time to come out. Hmmm...Taco Bell's sounding good right now:)