Then the doctor said she wanted to draw some blood. Yuck. Not my favorite thing to do. I don't pass out or anything when they take my blood....but I can't watch them poke me.
The nurse came in ready to siphon me dry (not really....only a couple of viles, but hey...I'm being dramatic! heh) and I got a knot in my stomach. Blah. She couldn't find a good vein in either arm. What? I know I HAVE veins....lol Anyway, she picked one that "would do" but she had to use a smaller needle.
I sat there and started whining. Seriously. I've never done that before. Or maybe I had but never really realized that I was whining.
At that moment....as I WATCHED her stick my little vein with the little needle, I thought of Nikki. I thought of ALL the needles, pokes, cuts, prods and crap that she went through for a year and a half. This little tiny needle to draw a couple of viles of blood from me was NOTHING in comparison to what she went through, but here I was whining.
I didn't for long. I actually stopped....looked at the nurse and said, "considering what my sister has gone through, this is cake! I am NOT going to complain!" And that was that. My blood was drawn, I got my bandage and I left.


I have said from day one that she is my hero. :)
Silly girl...Nikki wasn't there to smack you over the head she was there to hold your hand :)
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