I had a doctor’s appointment the other day. Although the doctor I saw didn’t need blood drawn, a few of my other doctors did, so we stopped at the lab afterward.
There were already a bunch of people ahead of me, so I took a number and found a seat.
Up until recently, there was a sign-in kiosk where you would enter your name. But apparently we’ve gone super low-tech, which is fine—it doesn’t affect the wait time at all. Although it did remind me of waiting at the deli as a kid… and it kind of made me want to order a pound of cheese.
After about 20 minutes of thinking about ordering cheese, my number—41—was called. Thankfully, there were not actually 40 people ahead of me. This post would probably have a very different tone if there were that many people in line. And since I strongly dislike standing in line, I definitely wouldn’t have stayed… so this post might not even exist.
As I was brought into the lab, I quickly discovered the reason for the wait.
The lab was training a new vampire.
I mean, phlebotomist.
The trainee, Lily, was very apologetic that everything was taking so long, and I told her not to worry about it.
I wasn’t thrilled about waiting, but what was I going to say—“Get moving, lady?” Yell at her? Or sigh repeatedly and complain loudly?
How would any of that help the situation?
It wouldn’t.
If anything, it would probably make things worse.
Lily wasn’t just new to the medical group’s computer system—she was also new to drawing patients’ blood.
(Apparently student phlebotomists “practice” on each other. I can’t help but wonder how often people reconsider that training program!)
When she apologized for what felt like the 20th time, I told her again not to worry about it—and that I certainly wasn’t going to yell at someone who was about to stab me with a needle.
She laughed and thanked me for being so pleasant.
I try very hard to treat people the way I would want to be treated. And personally, I would be stressed out if I were in her situation. Not only was it her first day, but she was learning a new computer system while her supervisor—and a patient—watched.
And yet, when she went to draw my blood, she was completely calm. Her hands didn’t shake at all.
She found a vein on her first try—impressive, since many people have struggled to draw blood from me.
I would have been a mess.
But then again, I would never have gone to school to be a phlebotomist. I have no desire to handle blood or interact with large volumes of people… although the thought of stabbing them—
This interaction made me realize how many moments like this exist in our day-to-day lives—moments where we can choose to be calm and kind instead of being terrible.
I understand that unexpected situations can quickly shift your mood from good to bad. I also know that some days, minor—and major—annoyances seem to stack on top of each other.
We all have those days. But what does being short-tempered or rude actually add?
Maybe it’s just me, but I almost always regret it when I’m mean or rude to someone. As hard as it can be to set aside a bad day or a bad mood, I think it’s actually harder—emotionally—to be nasty.
You know what my mum used to say: “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”
(In my head, I hear it in Thumper’s voice… you know, the little bunny from Bambi.)
I’d like to tell you those are words I live by, but that wouldn’t be true.
Instead, I try to be kind. And when I can’t? I disguise the mean things with humor.
Hey, I try. It’s the best I can do.
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