Poked and prodded

I went to the doctor's today. Or should I say nurse.
It was because they were after my blood. They didn't yet know how rare a commodity it is!
I sat down and told the nurse in no uncertain terms that drawing blood from me is like... well... drawing blood from a stone.
I saw the sceptical look on her face, the one that seemed to say 'Honey, I've been doing this for the past 40 years and I KNOW what I'm doing.'
Far be it for me to argue.
I sat in the chair (yes, it was a chair, not a bed-type-thingy) and kept thinking if I pass out, I'll slither to the floor.
I told the nurse I tend to pass out when giving blood but that illicted no real response from her.
And then she tried to find a vein on my right arm. 2 minutes later she was still trying. No needle yet (just slapping my arm to make the vein pop).
Eventually she seemed to have found one and stuck the needle in. I can't ever look at that stuff so I closed my eyes. A minute passed and she said 'It's not very cooperative... there's not a lot of blood coming out.'
Shocker.
She seemed to think that after another minute she'd had enough in one tube to warrant three of the four tests they wanna do on my blood (liver, thyroid and something else I can't remember).
So the needle comes out and she moves over to my left arm (which I had told her from the beginning is the one most willing to cooperate.)
I show her the vein all doctors have always eventually gotten blood from but she chose to ignore it. 'It's too deep under your skin', she says.
So she sticks a needle onto my left arm at about the same spot she tried on my right. No blood at all. Oh joy.
She goes back to the right arm and desperately tries to find another vein. Eventually she gets to the hand and says 'I hate taking blood from the hand' but she does it anyway.
It is at this point that I start to feel crazy woozy. I ask her to make the chair recline and she does it. The wooziness gets worse and worse and I tell her I'm gonna pass out. She tells me to take deep breaths. I do. For about 5 minutes.
I'm ok after that.
She says maybe we should leave it for the day and I can come back to give some more blood for the last of the test they wanna do (Full Blood Count). Unless, she says, I think I can handle another try.
At this point I have recovered and the thought of having to come back to give blood again helps me make up my mind quickly.
I tell her to try it again.
And she finally goes for the vein on my left arm, the one I had told her about at the beginning. And it gushes and she's happy. So happy she tells me she'll take some extra blood just in case. What that case would be, I don't know!

Eventually after another 5 minutes of lying there, drinking water and slowly getting up again (and chatting with her about her golder retriever puppy!) it was over.

The whole ordeal lasted about half an hour. And I know I can't possibly complain that I'm now running around with four bruises on both my arms and my hand when there's people actually being seriously ill out there.
But it still stinks!