My Aversion to Water

Twice recently I have had to have my blood tested. I first went to my doctor for a routine checkup which included a full panel of blood work, and not being in the doc’s office too much, when they instructed me to fast, I took it very literally. No food and no water for 12 hours before my appointment. Hubby told me later that water would have been ok. I wouldn’t have drunk it anyway, I hate water.

The Army does their lab work sort of like the DMV handles their customers. No appointments, you just show up and take a number. I was number 626, by the time they finally found a vein and took my blood, which was like molasses, number 632 was finishing up in the seat next to me.
The very next week I had to have another sample taken for a life insurance application. Sadly, they couldn’t just use the results from my test the week before. Go figure. This time, I drank one glass of water the night before. I also had a glass of water when the health worker set up in our living room. Good for me staying hydrated.

First she couldn’t find my vein; she maneuvered the little needle around inside my arm for a while, and then gave up, in hopes of a better vein elsewhere. When she removed the needle, I didn’t even bleed. (For the record, I think I am a superhero. I don’t bleed! C’mon! How much cooler of a super power can you get, folks?) After commenting on how dehydrated I was, she tried again. She found a vein, but could get no blood (Again I say: SUPERHERO…?). She’s only allowed to poke twice, so that was the end of that. I was instructed to start drinking some freakin’ water and call her back to try again.

I bought a 32 oz metal water bottle at Wal-Mart last weekend. It’s super cute (teal) but I still hate water. Diet soda has water in it, why can’t I just drink THAT? I LOVE diet soda. Sheesh. But because it makes hubby happy, I’ve been drinking some (gross) water. I need to make hubby happy because I accidently broke his super cool, totally awesome, brand new as a gift beer stein. Sorry hubby. (Beer has water in it too, maybe I could just drink that?)

Besides my disgust for the taste of water, I also don’t like swimming in it. I am almost a quarter of a century old and I can’t swim. I’m ok until the water is deeper than I am tall, then I cry like a baby and forget how to do anything more than flail my arms in an attempt to doggy paddle. Hubby thinks this is cute/funny and often picks me up (But I love when he carries me around in the water because I feel dainty and light!) and carries me to the deep end where he threatens to let go. FYI, not so charming, hubby.

I also don’t like fish, which live in the water. Except for our blue beta, Lt. Shiny Sides, who lives in a tank with not one, but TWO lids.