Typical Day
The sun hasn't even come up yet and the waiting room of the Coffin Clinic is already half full when Flo Suker, strides in downing a Red Bull and finishing the last remaining section of blood orange, her only nourishment until afternoon break.
“You're late. We're already backed up,” warns Eddie Cullen, her fellow blood sucker and a real stickler for time.
Flo would love to tell Eddie where to stick it; however, every time she opens her mouth to complain, she is mesmerized by his translucent shimmery skin and perfectly coiffed hair and she forgets being mad at him. She would ask him out, but apparently he has a really jealous girlfriend, so she just stays out of his way.
Flo grabs her lab coat from the closet and looks at the chart to see what her morning lineup is. She has a 20-year-old woman who needs a CBC for her company physical, a 50-year-old man who, from a glance at the waiting room, appears morbidly obese, an 80 year-old woman with ropy veins, a screaming toddler and a baby, the usual insanity.
She calls in the CBC first, thinking it'll be the quickest draw of the morning; however, it isn't.
The young woman squirms in her chair and avoids eye contact. "I hate this. I hate needles," she says while Flo ties the rubber tourniquet around the woman's arm and starts her search for a nice juicy vein. Nothing is popping up.
"Did you drink any water this morning?" asks Flo.
"I had some coffee," the woman says. That's okay, right?
"Well, coffee is a diuretic. It dehydrates you. Which makes it harder to find a vein, but don't worry, we’ll find it." Flo hands the nervous Nellie a paper cup of cold water and indicates for her to drink it. The woman's hands are shaking. She is obviously terrified.
"You're not going to hurt me, are you? Are you going to hurt me?" Nellie's baby blues stare pleadingly at Flo, who stifles a smirk.
"It's nothing. You probably won't even feel it." Flo gives Nellie another paper cup of water and grabs her heating pad from her secret stash. She wraps the heating pad around the crook of Nellie's arm and has her hold it there.
"Why are you doing this?"
"To get the veins to stick out."
"Are you sure you know what you’re doing?" Nellie asks.
"Yes," Flo answers. If only this woman knew how many times she's been asked this, and how many blood draws she's done day after day, year after year in this place. Maybe she should just be like her friend Buffy and wear a shirt that reads "Don't Mess With Me, I Get Paid to Stab People With Sharp Objects."
After a few minutes, Flo takes off the heating pad and finds the vein. She gets out a butterfly needle to appease Nellie, even though she knows this will make her job harder to college the blood before it clots. She instructs Nellie to look the other way and quickly does the stick, getting the vein on the first try, while Nellie blathers away about how much she hates this and to let her know before she begins inserting the needle.
In a few seconds it's all over and Nellie looks amazed. She didn't even feel it. She heaps accolades at Flo, who is busy labeling the vials of blood with a smug look on her face. In fact, she sings Flo's blood sucking praises all the way out the door. Flo drinks in the positive vibe, which lasts exactly 10 seconds until the next victim takes her chair.
After getting kicked, cried on, and screamed at over the next six hours, Flo heads home for a quick nap before her second job, the night shift at Sunnydale Memorial Hospital.
At Sunnydale, Flo makes rounds, waking up her long list of patients in the middle of the night to take their blood. A few of the patients are up, their TVs droning on, pale gaunt faces anxious and eager to get out of the hospital. When they see the vampire at their door, they gasp and groan but are powerless to do anything but let her take their blood.
Most of the patients are sound asleep and not too happy about being woken up only to get poked and prodded by the vampire with the harsh hospital lights blaring them into submission. Still, Flo ignores their groans and moans and tries to get the job done as quickly as possible. She has to get those blood counts in before the doctors do round, so Flo is a busy little vampire, all night long. So many draws, so little time.
The last floor of the morning for Flo to visit is her least favorite of all, the pediatric ward. Flo puts on her cheeriest fake smile and her gentlest touch, as she swiftly moves from room to room, taking blood from one sick child after another. Many of the kids are hairless, pale, and weak from chemo or disease. Flo sees the fear in each and every one of their eyes and tries to remind herself that she is providing a much needed service, even if they don't know it. The blood she collects could lead to curing some of these kids, or maybe bring good news to their terrified parents. She is a mere cog in the system, but sometimes the system works and some of these children will walk out of here healthy and strong.
However, she still has to deal with their frightened stares and tears. She tries to reassure them that it won't hurt. That she will try very hard to make it not hurt (and she does try and often succeeds, but not always). When finishing drawing blood from the last little boy, his deep brown eyes look up to her and as if sensing she needs it, he smiles and says "Gracias."
"De Nada," she says, smiling back and gathering her kit, then heads out the door.
As she turns in the last cart full of marked blood samples into the lab for analyzing, Flo looks around the almost silent hospital, realizing in another few minutes the place will be buzzing with interns, doctors, nurses, and others. She takes a deep breath and heads out the hospital doors, eager to get home, all snug into her bed before the sun comes up. She has about eight hours before her next shift at the Coffin Clinic starts.