And then I was 12

We have a new wellness plan at work.  Fun stuff, actually.  We are all competing against each other and on teams to see who can walk more, eat better, sleep longer, etc.  I even got a nifty tracking device called a Fitbit Ultra.  It's been fun.

Part of the wellness plan has us do some biometric testing, including blood work.  We were sent a home test to get a blood sample and mail back.  I took it to work this morning.  I did not eat breakfast nor had I had coffee; just water.

I go to my bathroom in the office, clean my hands with very warm soap & water, dry them, rub them vigorously to get the blood flowing

and then, I was 12.

I freaked the heck out.  I could NOT do it to myself.  I don't mind when nurses draw blood or prick my finger. The thought of me doing it to myself, though, freaked me the heck out!

I came out of the bathroom and told my boss and another co-worker that I could not do it.  They both started laughing.  I emailed 3 of my walking team members in other states and told them.  They all assured me it did not hurt that and I'd be fine.  My favorite reply from the 3 was "For the love of God, you've had TWO KIDS! You can do this!"

About an HOUR later, I still had not done it.  My co-worker (who is the one that tends to rescue me when cars break down, whose family and wife are very close to my family, etc.)  offers to push my finger on to the lancet while I look away.  I agreed.  The boss came to watch (i.e. make fun).  I was not mad; it really *was* ridiculous!

No countdown, just "poke" and I was done.  No where near as painful as other ones I have had done!  I placed the blood in the tester doohickey, let it set for 15 minutes, packaged it up according to the directions and got it ready for mailing.

Phew.