This is a photo of my thumb over the camera lens. Ergo, it is also a photo of the color of my blood—truly alizarin crimson. My stomach went south again this morning after I took a blood sample, but at least it worked! I’ve had incredibly bad luck taking blood sugar samples from my care person. We have decided that if I stab my patient three times and still can’t get a reading, that we pass on the concept. Well, I have passed on the concept more often than I have had success, usually it says, Error!, so I’m very excited to say her blood sugar is normal. Not mine. Hopefully my biliousness stomach will start rocking on a stormy sea of queasiness. Yes, I have stabbed myself with the stupid little needle trying to reload the little gun. I do rub her finger as if I were milking it before I stab it. She really needs to drink more water and she refuses because she doesn’t want to wet the bed. And yesterday’s care provider quit. I am running out of coping skills. I now know that I do not want to do a job like this again. I knew it would be difficult. But not like this!
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