We've mentioned before how we're working through the Dave Ramsey plan. We're on step 3 of 7: debt is gone and we're filling out our $1,000 emergency fund to 3-6 months worth of expenses.
The plan also includes other important financial tasks, so we're in the process of getting 20-year term life insurance. Which involves a basic medical exam: medical history, immediate family medical history, blood pressure, height/weight, and blood and urine samples.
Ian schedules our appointment for 6:30 Friday morning, so we won't have to fast all day. The alarm goes off at 5:40. Do you know how hard it is to shower, standing under running water, while you're trying to wait to provide samples? The medical assistant is running a little late, so I play Angry Birds to distract myself while Ian is a grownup and reads the news (on our new Mac!).
Natasha arrives a little before 7 and I make a beeline to the bathroom with the little cup and vials while Ian gets started with his paperwork. Forty minutes later we're almost done. I'm signing papers at the counter while Ian sits down for his blood sample. And then it's my turn. I should mention here that I get a little anxious about this. I can feel the needle the whole time and it's a little unnerving. So I steel myself and sit down. Natasha makes small talk to keep me calm, and Ian sits on the kitchen counter and makes faces to distract me. I'm doing great.
And then it happens. Or rather doesn't. No blood. She digs, but only a little. "I'm so sorry. The needle might be dull. I'll try again with a new one." Professional, friendly, caring. Ian breaks eye contact to check out what's happening on my arm.
The back of my neck goes cold. "I'll just sit back and breathe a little."
The next thing I know Ian's concerned face is hovering over me and Natasha is fanning me with our medical papers as I'm lying on our (not-cleaned-in-two-weeks) kitchen floor. We don't have juice, so Ian starts finger-feeding me honey after he grabs a pillow from the living room.
"It's a good thing you're light!" Natasha consoles me with a story about a larger man who also passed out on her, while his very pregnant wife watched helplessly from their sofa. Ian feeds me chopped up banana bits.
After a few minutes resting on the floor, Natasha asks if I want to try again or do it another time. But I want to get this knocked off our list. "Do I have to get up?" I don't. One poke and it's over. She packages our samples (we should hear back in a couple weeks), tells us to call her if I have any problems, and heads out.
I hope they don't need to run any blood tests at my annual exam in a couple weeks.