#phlebotomy

[junkjounral]

[ID:

Writing you love letters in phlebotomy class

and watching the crease of my elbow bloom. I look in the vials and you’re in my water. Robbers of you. Coagulating. I’m learning new words: brachial, cephalic, basilic. Redefining butterfly. Dizzy as a centrifuge. Won’t you spin me, darling? Separate me into serum and plasma and lovesickness. Layers of liquid and you. Suspended in heparin.

I’m finding romance in what’s sterile. The preparation and the site of insertion. Kissing your hand and retrieving an alcohol swab, making a ritual of caring. Devoted. Is a blood panel a prayer? An appeal to a higher power? There’s an intervention between syringe and autoclave. That’s where I live. Cleric of blood, acolyte of leeches. Their honest thirst. Their small sharp mouths.

I marked you twice, once on the back of each hand. A bruise like a kiss, livid and real. Hematoma of love. Your stubborn veins. For a moment I couldn’t draw anything forth, and I quavered at your altar. The needle begs the salt to follow. Release and flash. Relief and sting. Then the hot wet pulse inside the vial— a tourniquet loosened around my heart as the proof of your life warmed my palm.

I line up my instruments and remember your lovely wrists. When it comes time to puncture another, may they feel the echo of your faith in my touch; how, when I asked for your love, you gave me your arm.

End ID]

Nathaniel Orion G. K. / 11.21.24

[phleb0tomist]

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[oldinterneticons]

I'm not a vampire, I'm a phlebotomist

[cainvstheworld]

The Phlebotomist by Cain Birch

This is a persona poem from the perspective of my phlebotomist (person who draws my blood). It's a bit different than what I normally post on here, but I wrote it for my creative writing class and liked how it turned out.

[Text ID: The Phlebotomist by Cain Birch. The youngest tremble more than the graying, the grayed. Some of the children beg, barter with their parents, howl at the sun as I borrow their blood with a slender needle, but I offer every flavor of lollipop, so their pain is not fruitless. My heart breaks most for the ones whose fathers extract crumpled doctor’s orders from their jangling pockets, whose mothers offer tight smiles as their child squeezes their eyes shut, stilling, accustomed to the burn of the needle. I call out girls’ names into the waiting room and choppy-haired boys follow me into the sterile room, let me slide silver into the tender crooks of their elbows, measuring the hormones in their budding bodies. I call out a man’s name, and a woman with a five o’clock shadow coating her cheeks holds her arm ramrod straight for me. I don’t know how to ask her  what she’d like to be called, whether the “Samuel” in her chart should spell “Samantha” instead, perhaps “Iris” or “Rose.” Instead, I make small talk about the prices of gas, of chicken. I don’t tell her that the fried chicken my husband brings home grows cold by the time I arrive, that I do not turn on the heat in my hatchback even though my car’s engine sputters into the frigid night as I turn the key. I don’t tell her that I chew the tough meat without the microwave’s aid, so my husband’s breath, his still body is molten by comparison when I slide into the sheets next to him, drawing warmth into my bones, pretending the fire between us is more than a fading flicker. He wakes me up before dawn, before leaving to fill in the northeast's endless potholes, fills me up for a few minutes, catches his breath as he slides on his belt, his dirt-caked boots, kisses me with a closed mouth. I lay in the nest of blankets, let my mind slither off to hopeful gardens. In a few weeks, I will call a child’s name for the last time, his ailments healing, his parents glowing with quiet optimism. In a few months, I’ll call a woman’s name, Heather, and she’ll stick out her arm, ramrod straight, beaming. I won’t know what to say, but I’ll smile back at her. /End ID]

[cuties-in-codices]

bloodletting

illustration from the medical-astrological "schürstab codex", nuremberg, c. 1472

source: Zurich, Zentralbibl., Ms. C 54, fol. 40r

[yikes-ajax]

My mom is studying to become a phlebotomist and I'm so proud of her for that but I CANNOT handle an arm in the drying rack

[t4transsexual]

how i feel at work getting misgendered by my patients (theyre not being transphobic im just pretty)

[gentleward]

[gentlytoastedsub]

Oh you’re a licensed phlebotomist?

Oh okay you’re a professional vampire

[neherandunasflor]

Vampires familiars are actually phlebotomists who take extra blood to feed to the vampires they work for

[thelosersshoppingguide]

Blood and Secrets Beanie from Spooky Doodle Club

[phleb0tomist]

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[oldinterneticons]

Pfabulous Phlebotomist

[kaviary-blog]

The Art of the Draw

Phleb!Seb, unspecified reader

Modern AU

Indulgent drabble of Sebastian as a phlebotomist.

Idea comes from my day job and some of my fellow Gauntlets. Thanks @pluviowriting and @marketfreshfics for helping motivate me to push this out!

Word Count: 407

— — —

“Alright, go ahead and pump that hand for me a couple of times.” Obediently, the patient opened and closed their fist until told to relax.

Gloved fingers poking at their arm, looking for the telltale trampoline feel of a vein.

Once located Sebastian grabbed his alcohol wipe, wiping the area clean. “Good. Now you’re gonna feel a little poke.”

Pulling at the skin under the poke site, anchoring the vein. His dominant hand braced the straight needle and he quickly stuck the needle into the patients arm. Feeling the subtle pop of the needle finding home within the vein.

Popping the vacutainer into the hub. A perfect stream of blood shot into the tube, starting to fill it up and the desired speed.

Sebastian smirked. His favorite thing is when the blood streams into the tube like that. Audibly filling the tube, like a favorite song coming onto the radio.

Pulling the tourniquet off the patients bicep, a satisfying release of tension. Removing the full vacutainer, grabbing a piece of gauze in readiness to pull the needle out.

Quick removal and applying pressure immediately after.

“Feeling okay?” Sebastian glanced up at the patients face, carefully looking for any sign of syncope.

They answered in the affirmative and Sebastian looked down at his watch, minding the exact time and keeping it in his forefront thoughts.

Keeping pressure applied to the puncture site, grabbing the coban wrap and carefully applying it around the arm, keeping the gauze in place and enough pressure to stop any more potential bleeding.

He smiled and made eye contact with the patient. “Alright. I just need you to do one more thing for me than you’re all set.”

Standing up straight, he walked over to the counter where he had placed the lab order and the stickers. Quickly jotting down the time on one of the labels, he turned back around and showed the sheet to the patient.

“Is your name spelled correctly?”

Nod

“Birthday right?”

Another nod

“Awesome. Then you are all set.” He set the labels back down on the counter, careful to time and initial each label as the patient stood up and gathered their things. “Cool. You’re just gonna go out that door and then to the left.”

Pointing the directions with a smile on his face and exchanging thanks with the departing.

Finishing up labeling his tubes, Sebastian returned to the back lab to put the test orders in.

[weepingfoxfury]

The man on the radio has gone to Verona to immerse himself in opera ... so an alternative man on the radio is tentatively taking us through Tuesday. Weatherwise grab 'the umbrella', water wings and go sit in your boat. The traffic lady is all about roadworks, rear end shunts and the endless revving of engines.

Today's groaner: how many concertmasters does it take to change a light bulb? ... just the one, but it takes four movements ;-D badoom tish ... here all week!!

Little Dude had his injection yesterday and I had a lucky escape. Must have been a trainee taking blood yesterday at the hospital. I sat in the waiting room and watched each patient go in ... I listened to the usual "Hi, how are you?" ... "what's your date of birth?" ... "can you make a fist?" ... and I watched the minutes tick by.

So many minutes, all interspersed with "I'm so sorry" ... "shall we try the other arm? ... "perhaps a smaller size needle?" ... "maybe i can try getting some blood from your hand?" ... and finally the inevitable leaving the patient in the room to go get the experienced phlebotomist.

Ah how I cheered inwardly when it came to my turn and the trainee was told to go to lunch. ;-D

Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday and the shiny metropolis awaits ... still no raincoat or waterproof boots, but I do have an umbrella ...

[super-duper-mart]

just got my scrubs and im starting phlebotomy school tonight wish me luck:)

update 01/11/24: drew blood for the first time today!!! everyone was watching me n asked me if i had done this before lol

update 01/30/24: i passed my national exam!!!!!