SO, I often speak in letter format, and while giving blood I heard myself constructing a letter that sounded mysteriously like Josh's open letter rants.
Dear Nona,
Hi, I can see your name is Nona, although you never introduced yourself. You see I am the girl in the chair on your left. I am the one with the needle in my arm. I understand that your home country is interesting, and this young man wants to talk to you about it. I can appreciate that--so I waited patiently for 25 minutes to get to this point. I watched sadly as those that came after me were pumping away, but I waited. I did get a little nervous when your sanitation effort to wipe my arm with an alcohol wipe was done while you were looking at the young man. After he was completely finished: I knew my chance had come. Then I still had to wait for a few minutes. My patience was waning.
Finally you asked me yet again if I was allergic to iodine. I am not. You drew all over my arm, scribbled even. I squeezed. You swabbed. You stabbed. I spouted. Yes, yes I did, all up my arm and on my shirt. That doesn't normally happen. Maybe it was the prolonged period that my circulation was being cut off prior to to stab. You wiped the blood from the cuff and asked if I was okay. I laughed. As you were turning to the new young man-the more attractive of the two I knew I was doomed. I told you that you needed to readjust the needle. I have done this many times-I can tell. You kept readjusting and the needle started to vibrate. Finally I got to squeeze, and you were again lost to me.
Oh by the way you are much too old for these college boys.
Finally you stopped the blood flow. Only to turn yet again to the young man. AHHH!
Hi, Nona like I said, I am the one with the needle in my arm. You are killing me! Oh whew! It is finally my turn. Yes, a blue bandage is fine. Could you give me a new piece of gauze? Oh don't be so grossed out. Give me my paper--I would like to be on my way. I would like to go back to work. Yes I will take the only thing left on the table: oatmeal raisin, you know the chocolate chip cookies are all gone probably given to the kids that came in after me.
Thanks so much, it was a pleasure to be here. Well not really, but I give this blood freely because it was given to me. Drive safely.
Love Lori Jane
P.S And I know that you forgot, but my blood is all over your cuff--and the next person doesn't want it.
10 comments:
you're hilarious! but I'm sorry that happened to you. If you die- I'll personally track her down and hand-deliver this letter :)
that's kinda ironic that you're coming down here the same weekend we're going up there! maybe one of these days our paths will cross- remember- if you are ever in SLC you should come by!
Um... I think this is the funniest thing I have ever heard from you. It is very funny. Mom bought me a book for my birthday and the eintire way through I kept thinking... this girl reminds me of you. Remind me to tell u about it and to lend it to you.
I knew you had some funniness in you..
Lovin' the Open Letter! Spread the love - spread the rant! It is one of the most calming things imaginable. =)
How come I don't find this funny? hmmm. maybe because it sounds horribly painful, and horribly unsanitary. so i am thinking, all the time she was flirting with these boys, they are thinking of how totally inconsiderate and horrible she is being. horrible!
Do you really have blood on your clothes? Ew!
Good letter, good form. You surpass most in writing abilities...
It's official. You have cracked. I can give you some names of a few good shrinks.
I think Karalee is trying to tell you that there is still hope for you yet.
Very Clever.
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