Vampires

Don't let the title fool you. I am not going to write about glittering vampires that are beyond all physical description. That would be kind of weird. I am going to write about blood taking though. If you have a weak stomach, look away.

I am in a phlebotomy class right now and last week we did blood draws on each other (this week is friends and family... anyone want to come to let me draw from them?). Although there are needles and blood involved, it is super fun. Fun might not be the right word to describe it, exhilarating? We do straight needles, butterfly needles and finger pokes. We draw from the antecubital space, hand and fingers (well we stick your finger with a little lance rather than sticking it with a full blown needle. Then we squeeze out your blood in little drips. Cool). The antecubital space is your inside elbow space... the place where most everyone gets their blood drawn from. The hand is mainly for IVs, infants, elderly, and when you can't find a good vein in the antecubital.

It's awesome. I am actually really good at it. If only I could say the same for the rest of my class. There are about 30 of us in there and some of them have kind of crazy histories. There is a reformed druggie in my class (we aren't allowed to take her blood, but she can take ours), a girl who is deathly afraid of needles (she passes out all the time), people that have tattoos (which make it kind of hard to find veins.. even though you are supposed to find them through feel, it kind of throws me off when I have this wolf staring at me), and a couple people that just aren't attentive to what they are doing.

For instance, on Friday some guys was sticking my hand when all of the sudden I started to get a hematoma (blood pooling inside the skin creating a bump). It wasn't just a little one either. It was like a marble was in my hand... and it was growing. He didn't even really notice because he was paying attention to the tube rather than the venipuncture site. I called his attention to it and he freaked out. Pulled the needle out without taking off my tourniquet which made blood spurt our of hand. I pulled the tourniquet off and stuck a cotton ball on the site. It hurt so bad. He felt bad, but at the same time I was kind of irritated with him. I put all the pressure I could on it, but it still was raised and hurt incredibly. I still have a bump and now my hand is all bruised. He then asked if he could do my arm. My confidence wasn't too high so I said no. Would you have said yes? I don't think so.

But just to reassure everyone out there, this doesn't happen all the time. So don't worry about it. You have to have someone who just isn't paying attention to have one this big or painful (and they hardly happen as it is). It just makes me look like a druggie with all these bruises (my arms and hands are full of them... I look abused). But still really fun.

Born To Run... Am I?

Born To Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall.

It all started with a McDougall's question of why his foot hurt. His answer took him to search for a hidden tribe called the Tarahumara (spanish pronunciation). They are the world's greatest long distance runners. When I say long distance runners, I mean 50 miles plus. They run for hours and love every second of it. During the story you take all these side trips learning about ultraracing, barefoot running, the evolution of humans, the pure joy of running and the terror known as the modern shoe. It's such a cool book.

In one section of the book they talk about how running has changed from pure recreation to a way to stay fit, a means to an end. When it is seen in that light it is a trial. You blast your iPod trying to distract yourself. I do this all the time. I used to love to run. Running was fun. I liked running in my neighborhood, on the soccer field, on the track, wherever. My mind would drift and I would find myself thinking about other things rather than concentrating on the burning of my muscles. It was totally liberating. I think that all ended after my freshman year in high school. After a few years of rebelling, I tried to get back into my running groove. But it seemed to have changed. I didn't run for running's sake. I ran to get skinny. Lose weight. Reading this book made me miss my days of real running.

So I have made a goal: I am going to run again. I imagine that my goal will have the product the book's author had; incredible 180 in running ability, desire and love. But my imagination tends to get a little wild at times and I think this is one of those. I am still going to try.

For anyone looking for a good book to read I recommend this one. So good.