As far as I could remember, I had never had
blood taken from me. I had never been sick and, being a man, I had never being
pregnant. So the thing was very new for me and scary. It’s kind of silly to be
scared of such a silly thing but aren’t we always scared about the things that
we don’t even understand? Because I didn’t even know why they wanted me to give
my blood after just a routine check-up. The doctor said it was good, once in a
while, to do something like a full scan of the body to be sure nothing was off,
nothing was out of place. But taking blood from my body seemed very invasive.
I am the kind of person that takes days to
talk to you, even if I have seen you for a year, at work, at school or
wherever. I am the kind of person that always tries to be in relationships were
the other person wants more love than sex. I’m the kind of person that would
never put on a bathing suit in front of someone else or shower in a public
place or something like that. I would die first to be honest. So giving away a
sample of blood was just as if someone had forced me to give up something that
was only mine and it didn’t felt right. Besides that, I had never done it and
felt silly because I knew it was something positive to do. After all, he doctor
was right: I needed to get to know what was happening inside my body. I had not
being in a doctor’s office for five years or more and if he wanted to know what
was going on, he was the doctor after all.
I woke up really early to give my sample. I
tried not to think about it until the moment was imminent. So I just woke up,
showered, put on some loose clothes and walk out home. The weather was strange:
it seemed that it was going to rain but it didn’t, as if the sky was waiting to
make a more dramatic storm later in the day. I just thought the weather
sometimes behaved like a moody human. I walked to the bus stop and waited there
for the bus that would take me to the hospital. It was such a sad thing, to be
going to a hospital. I thought tight there that I pity every single person that
has to go to a hospital every single day of his or her lives. All that sadness
and stress and just negativity…
I mean, I’m not the most positive guy you’re
going to find, not at all, but I do try to be objective and working in the
health sector must not be an easy task, maybe if you are the head of a
pharmaceutical company or something. When my bus stopped, I walked inside like
a zombie. I hadn’t had anything to eat, as asked by the doctor, so I felt a
little like walking on air. The bus was filled with people so early in the day
so I just stood up by the exit and waited for my stop. As I did so, I noticed
that most of the passengers in the bus were women and then another fact of life
hit me in the face: women are so under appreciated. Not because they carry life
but because they keep it going. All those ladies in the bus were proof of that
and I felt bad as a man.
One of them was talking about the day she was
going to have. I couldn’t hear the whole conversation, but I could guess she
was a housekeeper. She was telling another woman that she had asked her boss to
give her two days off as she was feeling really tired and had many things to do
at home. The other women asked her if her husband helped around the house and
she answered that he did but that things were still backing up. She hoped to
get those two days to run some errands and just be with her children for some
more time that week. That was all I heard before I stepped out of the bus,
twenty minutes after I had gotten in. I felt bad for her but I thought that at
least she had a steady job. Things could always be worse.
As it was very early, there were no traffic
jams on the streets and no overcrowded sidewalks. The few people around were
workers of stores or vendors that were installing their posts in strategic
places for the morning rush. People were going to need their coffee, their
newspapers and their dose of sugar and they were going to given them all to
them. I walked past them and then through a couple of blocks where not a single
soul was seen. It was the perfect time of the day to shoot a zombie apocalypse
scene. I imagined it and smiled for myself. I finally got to the hospital and
went straight to the second floor, where I was charged for my blood test. Then
I sat down and looked around.
Besides me, there were only two other people:
a teenager with his mom and an elderly couple. The teenager was obviously
checking social media and seemed very focused on it. His mom seemed moved her
feet and legs without stopping. By her outfit, it was obvious she worked in
some office and that she needed to get there as soon as possible, which was
curious because wouldn’t you open up your morning to be with your son? Then
there was the elderly couple, two lovely older people that were chatting about
their pills and if they had them all in the woman’s purse. She pulled them all
out and I was surprised to see at least ten little orange bottles in armrest of
the chair. They were saying their properties, as no one ever knew the names.
The teenager was called first and then the
couple and when more people were coming in, I finally got inside too. I got
into a small cubicle were a nurse checked my arms for the best vein and the she
told me to look the other way, as it may look a bit too scary. I did exactly
that, as I was not really looking forward to see my blood spilling out of my
arm. As she did her job, she told me that the results would be available in two
weeks. I wanted to complain but my arm hurt too bad and she told me, after
putting a circular sticking plaster where she had put the needle on.
When the pain passed, I asked her why it took
so long to have the results. I told her it was just a routine procedure for my
doctor but she told me that all exams were the same and that they checked the
blood for every possible disease I could have: hepatitis and several sexual
transmitted diseases includes syphilis and HIV. When she said the last part, I
got even more scared that before the needle went through my skin. I didn’t ask
anything else or said anything at all. She just gave me a sheet with which I
could claim the results in two weeks time. Five minutes later, I was already
outside walking home. Somehow, I didn’t want to take the bus back. I had too
many things in my head and only wanted to vent a little before freaking out
once again.
As I stopped to buy something to eat, I thout about the reason why I was freaking out. Exactly five months ago I had gone to a party and, strangely for me, I had
gotten really drunk. The friends that had invited me there were just laughing
their asses off because they had never seen me drunk and because, strangely
enough, I was a very funny drunk guy. I told just, funny stories I didn’t even
know I had and I talked to people straight away, even going so far as to ask
them if they have had sex that day. Bare in my mind the party was attended by,
at least, forty people and only knew a couple of them. I drank a lot and, the
next day I was surprised to realize that I hadn’t vomited or anything gross
like that all night.
What was weird was that I woke in one of the
bedrooms of the apartment were the party was held and I happened to be only
wearing my underwear and with someone besides me. Now, I didn’t know if
something happened and to this day I have no idea. It was just as if all
memories produced after two in the morning had been erased by the computer that
was my brain. I only know I grabbed my clothes, put them on and just got the
hell out of there. Days later, I spoke with one of my friends that had been in
the party and he just said he found me funny when drunk. But he never said anything
about me kissing or talking in a “unique way” to someone. So I didn’t mention
it and I had forgotten everything about it until the day of the blood test.
The following two weeks were torture. Every
time I had a moment to think about my life, I found myself wondering if I had
sex that night of the party and if it had been unprotected. As I didn’t recall
anything, and I didn’t really stayed in the room the next day to see if there
was a condom wrapper around, I just didn’t know anything. I just knew I was
very nervous and jumpy every time someone was looking to talk to me about anything.
Days were long sometimes and I just wanted the hospital to call me and tell me
they need me to pick up the results earlier but maybe that wouldn’t have been a
very happy call.
Anyway, I waited as patiently as I could and
when it was time, I went to the hospital and asked for my results. It was very
frustrating that I had to wait several minutes for them and that I had to go through
them with a doctor different that the one who had asked for the damn exam. She
must have realized what was going on inside my mind because she just said “You’re
fine, honey”. I felt like an elephant had ben lifted from my back and I could
finally worry about other things, like my life in general and the fact that I
suffered from anemia.
