I’m thinking about a question received from a client about how to avoid burnout while I sit in the doctor’s surgery waiting to have some blood drawn and trying to distract myself.
On a list of things I would definitely try to avoid at all costs, having blood taken would feature near the top. Even talking in detail about it is likely to have me on the point of passing out.
The nurse calls in a man who arrived after me and is carrying a family-sized bag of “Monster Munch” which seems like an unnecessarily showy sign of calm.
A woman I don’t recognise who has no apparent insignia suggesting any medical training appears from around the corner and calls me in.
In the little room, there is another lady sitting with a clipboard. She wears a badge around her neck with “phlebotomy” on it.
I assess the situation and realise that the woman now struggling to don a pair of surgical gloves is in training and I can feel the colour drain from my face.
“I’m not good with blood tests,” I hear myself saying.
“OK, are you usually alright sitting up?”
Here I make my catastrophic mistake.
“Yes, I’ll be OK.”
I am horrified at my own inexplicable bravado.
She struggles to arrange the flimsy pillow under my elbow.
“Can you just straighten your arm for me?”
My arm refuses to straighten, controlled by some force from another realm.
As she begins I immediately feel the ground moving and I can’t fill my lungs with enough air to keep me upright.
She has barely begun before she has to stop as the other woman helps me press my head between my legs in what feels like a hopeless attempt to remain conscious.
Some minutes later, lying flat on the trolley while one of the practice nurses completes the job she asks,
“Is it always this bad for you?”
“No, this is the worst it’s ever been.”
My mind drifts again to the burnout question in which my client lists a number of situations that are contributing to his growing discomfort and the reasons why he isn’t doing anything to address them.
He is worried about disloyalty, of being thought weak or incapable, or ungrateful.
He risks long-term physical and emotional damage because he feels unable to put his own needs first.
I should have elected to lie down when I was given the option.
It wasn’t bravado that made me avoid being explicit about my needs. I’m not too proud to describe myself as “a fainter”.
It wasn’t ignorance to the likelihood of some comical catastrophe the like of which we’ve just witnessed. I once passed out in the pub toilet after listening to an account of a journalist being shot and wounded on the TV news.
It was really that when under severe pressure it is easy to lose the emotional resilience and clear thinking that is most likely to help us make the choices leading to somewhere better.
Next time, I’ll waltz into the surgery and immediately assume a horizontal position on the bed so that there can be no doubt about whether or not I am giving myself all the support possible. The rest, as always, is in the lap of the gods.
PS. I wasn’t in any fit state to take a relevant photo for this week’s post so here’s one of a nice sunrise. You’re welcome.
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