![]() ![]() I yelped, but more because he scared the crap out of me than because it hurt, although it did kind of hurt too. ![]() He pulled one more time, this time yanking the thing like he was pulling on a nail stuck in a wall instead of a needle in the soft tissue of my arm. I’d had this done before, and I’d never seen a needle get stuck before, not ever.īeneath the surface of my skin, my vein swelled, bulging outward. The tingling sensation persisted, and now I felt a pressure too. He pulled again, harder this time, and still the needle stayed where it was, buried in my arm-deep in the vein. done.” With those last words he set the vial back in his box of tricks and reached for a cotton swab, setting it on top of the needle in my arm as he tugged to pull it free. He glanced at me and then back to his task, releasing the rubber strip from my upper arm with a snap. He popped the second vacuum-sealed vial into the syringe, and it rapidly began filling with blood. “Like what? Are you feeling a little light-headed or anything?” I’d never been squeamish-not even when it came to watching my own blood being drawn-so it was strange when I felt the prickling, the tingling around the needle. He caught me staring, and I dropped my eyes to the needle as it plunged into my arm. He said some things that were probably meant to be distracting, but all I could think was that we could be friends if we wanted to, we were that close in age. ![]()
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