Thanks for the genetics, Dad!

I've a lot to thank my Dad for. He loves me, he provides for me, he's a bit of a laugh and he's a pillar of support when I need him. Ahhh bless. However, he's a bit of a bastard too. Thanks to him I inherited his most useful thin veins. So what, I hear you ask? Well it makes taking blood an extremely difficult and frustrating experience.

There is no requirement to get vaccines to enter Argentina but we will want to do a bit of travelling and I've been a bit of a sick Sandra recently and Mummy dearest would rather me safe than sorry. I hate needles. Ugh. Makes me go weak thinking of them. Yeah, very cliched, a girl scared of needles but geniunely, I'd prefer to give Tony Blair a foot rub. Unfortunately for me, Tony wasn't available and I've had  to go for blood tests and injections.

Because I am crap at drawing and a bit lazy, I've used a most entertaining web application [here]  to showcase the range of expressions I had on a recent visit to the doctors, as seen on the left.

The nurse had to give me a dose of Hepatitis A and B and then had to take blood from my elbow crease. On went the belt, to build up pressure. I started pumping my fist to increase this and help the broad out. The nurse had a rather dubious expression which of course settled my nerves. "We'll have a go anyway" says she. Joyous. Cue Expression 1.

In went the needle. Expression 2. "Oh goodness, that's not working. We'll try it from your hand". Expression 3. So she takes it from the back of my hand where, dear reader, you will experience even more squirmish pain. To add insult to injury [literally], I was left with some very suspicious dark bruises for a week or three which some fellow work colleagues put down to a fondness of heroin.

Peachy. Once again, thanks Dad.

"Really".