I've got a river of life flowing out of me

Well, I did. Funny story:

At phlebotomy class tonight, we all did our usual rounds poking each other with needles. Much to my dismay, I seem to be the only Y chromosome left in the bunch-- which means veins are gonna be harder to find on the whole. Tonight, we were instructed on how to use winged infusion sets. See?

They're a smaller needle diameter, and they're supposed to be easier to use. Must be why it took me three times to get it right... whatever. It looks really cool when the tube fills up, and turns all red and such. So, our hands are all poked to bits with these things, and we go back to regular arm venipuncture. This is what I'm good at. I've never missed. I tell one of my classmates that if she lets me poke her, I will let her poke me. She agrees, and goes first.

Let me be the first to tell you that one could probably see my veins from twenty feet away. That was not the problem, and let me first applaud her for being the first of my classmates to strike oil on me (after six previous dry attempts by others). While reaching for a new cotton swab to plug my arm, she releases the multisample device... and the needle. I watch, in oh-dang-that-car-is-about-to-break-my-legs-slow-motion, as the needle slowly succumbs to the inescapable persuasion of Earth's gravity and falls out of my arm. This would not have been a big deal, had the vacuum tube drawing my blood not been engaged: just as luck would have it, the tube was engaged. The powerful sucking force of the vacuum pulls venous blood out of my arm like this:


Just, you know, red. Without a doubt, one of the weirdest things that's ever happened to me. After the mess was taken care of, and she apologized profusely, I go ahead and poke her...

Money in the bank. Maybe I should go pro.