After a week of no riding, I made my way to a Saturday afternoon visit with a local medical facility to have some blood drawn for tests. I’ll be visiting my cardiologist for the first time since I had my heart attack last year. Only makes sense to see how the red stuff is doing in response to changes in living. Diet – check. Exercise — check. Stress reduction — check. Sleep. Well, sort of check.
Haven’t ridden since that little jaunt. Back is still stiff and there’s enough sudden weakness that leaving the Vespa in the garage makes sense.
The only thing noteworthy about the trip was the big pinch. Sitting in a chair in the lab the phlebotomist had my arm tied off with a piece of rubber tubing, wiping throbbing veins as she scrubbed skin with alcohol, all part of a familiar drill. And then, as she focused her gaze on the vein she says, “Big pinch”.
Big pinch? What? My mind races immediately wondering what is about to happen. Every other time I’ve had blood drawn they say “Little pinch”. Little. As in small, insignificant.
Little pinch. Not big pinch.
As my mind is racing I see the blood filling glass tubes. Wait. What? That’s no pinch. Didn”t feel a thing.
After a short interrogation she tells me she doesn’t like to disappoint anyone so she crys, “Big pinch!”. No one is disappointed when there’s no pinch.
The highlight of my riding week…