If you live in New York, you’re bound to end up crying in public eventually; there just aren’t enough private places.
Last week I had my first ever New York City public cry. This is a bonafide right of passage for a New York City-dweller, mentioned both in the New York Times and on How I Met Your Mother, an authoritative look on living in New York City at in your late 20′s and early 30′s if there ever was one. Still, I never thought it would happen to me, and then, of course, it happened.
I’ve been going for weekly blood tests for seven or so weeks now, ever since that thing happened (we’re distancing this week), and I’ve gotten a pretty good system of not having it hurt that much. You inhale just before the poke, exhale with the jab, and for the love of god look anywhere but at the needle. Everyone has been nice; they recognize me now, and it doesn’t feel so scary any more because I know the ropes. Then, last week, there was a new phlebotomist. She didn’t acknowledge me when I walked in, opting to continue chatting with her friend. I shrugged it off and sat down anyway, and when the time came I did my usual breath in. She stopped with the needle hovering over my vein and rolled her eyes at me.
“You’re cryin’ out, and I didn’t even touch you!”
“Wha…?” I said, totally shocked.
She inserted the needle while I was still thrown off, and it hurt because I didn’t get to do my thing, and it was awful. I squawked, and she shook her head.
“Still carryin’ on.” she said to her friend, and they cackled at me.
Oh my god! Bitch and bitch!
Listen. I’m a pretty tough lady. But when you’re jamming a bit of metal into my vein, I expect you to figure I’m at least a tiny bit vulnerable.
I complained, but honestly, the whole hospital experience has been a series of bad attitudes and worse book keeping, and no one cares.
So anyway, I kept my shit together until I got to the street, and then just lost it. I don’t know why it bothered me so much; part of the reason is probably because they send me to Labor & Delivery every week to pick up the order for the blood work, and that’s really tough to deal with. I have to walk by a waiting room full of families moments away from or currently celebrating their growing one larger, and it’s a sharp, sad reminder of what almost was.
The snotty-face-on-the-sidewalk was the worst, but oh how I love New York: NO BODY LOOKED AT ME. New Yorkers will never, ever, ever turn their heads to stare at someone, unless there is something they can do immediately to help, or the person is actually carrying a weapon.
I like it here.
I need to move there. I’m a bit of a crier and I hate being stared at when I’m obviously upset. Also, seriously, what a terrible nurse!
Amy
5 Nov 11 at 1:41 pm
Stories like these are what terrifies me to get sick in NYC. I swear, I’m always hearing people tell these horror stories about the simply awful beside manner of so many health professionals here. I’m sorry that had to happen to you.
nikkiana
5 Nov 11 at 7:52 pm
[...] Rude receptionists, and, while we’re at it, rude phlebotomists! [...]
What Bugs Me at The Amber Show
6 Nov 11 at 12:04 am
I agree. I love that NYC can be what you want it to be, and that when you want to get lost in the crowd and perhaps lost in your world and what’s up, and yes – cry if needbe, then you can.
Lara
7 Nov 11 at 10:03 am
This is exactly why I finally felt safe and at home in NYC rather than in my small town where you sneeze on Main Street and have flowers delivered to the local funeral home before you get to the grocery store. I’m having a moment, let me have it.
That being said, I’m outraged at that bitch and how she treated you. Even if you were extra sensitive (and I don’t think you are) there’s no call to be a problem about it. She’s violating your body with a pointy object, you get to feel however you feel about it.
Kizz
7 Nov 11 at 12:06 pm
Just had a great revenge idea. Sadly it’s probably too complicated and expensive to carry out. Also, mean but I’m not so worried about her delicate feelers. In the vein (heh) of Improv Everywhere we find out when she’s working and get a bunch of people, like a whole afternoon worth, to go in and get blood drawn for whatever reason. Each person fakes an actual over the top reaction – crying, fainting, laughing, screaming, flinching every time she moves near them, etc. – perhaps she’s never seen an actual extreme reaction and needs to be educated.
Kizz
7 Nov 11 at 12:18 pm
Yes. This is why I love NYC. I’ve had my crying in public moment(s) and I’m thankful for people not gawking at me. So thankful.
Emily
7 Nov 11 at 11:42 pm
I had a similar experience at the dentist a couple weeks ago…only I started bawling mid-filling and couldn’t. stop. It’s incredible how a friendly attitude from the person doing painful things to your body can change an entire situation. I hope you’re feeling better…it will get back to her in karma!!
Sweet Life Laur
8 Nov 11 at 11:45 am
I struggle with this, not the crying in public thing (though, generally being completely ignored thing works in places as small in Auckland, NZ as it does in huge cities like London) but what do when I see someone crying (absolutely weeping) in public. Twice I’ve stopped, offered a tissue and said “I’m sorry your hurting” before moving on, but I feel like I’ve embarrassed them, which I don’t want to do. Would it be better to ignore peoples pain, do you think?
Elly
17 Nov 11 at 8:13 am