I get it.
She has the worst job in the world. Phlebotomist at a children's hospital. Drawing blood from squirmy kids all day. I get it. I do.
But being snarky with my kid? Even if I'm the only one who caught the snark, even if it totally went over my kid's head and she didn't hear it at all? Not okay.
So I was snarky back. It wasn't right but it felt good. And it got her to back off.
We'd just spent the better part of the day walking through endless hallways from one appointment to the next, being extra nice to everyone because if I'm nice enough, my kid won't need surgery, right? The doctor will have to say, oh, these very nice people, they're just so nice, no surgery needed for them, right?
The last appointment we had, as part of Tani's pre-op appointment, was for blood work, which if anyone really thought it through, should be the first stop of the day because why should a little kid have to spend the whole day asking, is the blood thing next? But no one asked me.
The phlebotomist didn't really ask me either. But I told her anyway.
Tani sat on my lap and put her arm out so bravely, holding her package of Twizzlers as a treat in her other hand. She was pretty cool about it even though she really didn't want to be cool about it. And then she felt slightly panicky and asked for a minute. And the woman didn't listen to her. And she asked again for a minute, as the woman ignored her and tied the blue thing around her arm. And she asked again, louder. And again, she was ignored and the woman wiped her arm with an alcohol swab. I didn't say anything right away because I really didn't think, even for a second, and even though this woman has the worst job ever, that she wouldn't respect her patient. That she would ignore her. So when she asked me to hold her other arm so she wouldn't move it around, I said no.
I won't hold her other arm.
And then I said, she just needs a minute, so we're gonna give her a minute.
And the woman, who thus far, had not looked either of us in the eye, said, and just how long of a minute is she going to need?
In a children's hospital.
Honestly, what the hell?
So I said, her minute will last as long as her minute will last. Okay? I said that while nodding my head, with big eyes, and a wide smile but not so much smiling.
She rolled her eyes. But she backed off. I kept nodding and smiling.
I don't care what she thinks of me. You don't get to be a jerk in a children's hospital. Go work at Quest labs - that where all the mean phlebotomists work anyway.
Killing them with kindness didn't work in the first floor lab. So sad for all the people who work in that lab because that woman really brought down the whole experience for me.
Tani was fine, happily eating her licorice. But I really and truly wanted to hurt that woman.
Throughout the day, we had encountered one sweet nurse after another, a delightful x-ray technician, a caring doctor and a wonderful child-life specialist. Maybe that's why the blood draw is last. Maybe the hospital knows that once you encounter the woman who works there, you might start looking for a new hospital. Something to think about.
Either way, I'm happy to give you one chance to be nice to my kid, but really, you only get once chance.