Phlebotomy Part I

I spent two summers during my college years working a low paying job at a hospital in the Texas Medical Center (in Houston, of course).

Writing this, it occurs to me how deeply chauvinistic Houstonions behaved when naming their medical center after the entire state of Texas when there were other great medical centers across the state. But, I digress. To be sure, the TMC rocks. I owe my medical school, residency, and fellowship training to U.T. Houston, one of the two medical schools within the great Texas Medical Center. 

As premed students, we were encouraged to use our summers wisely, pursuing volunteer work or employ in some field of medicine. We were advised the summer activities would look good on medical school applications; demonstrating dedication and passion to the goal of a career in medicine.

That first summer, between freshman and sophomore year, I landed a clerical job in the laboratory of Methodist Hospital. I have no recollection of how I got the job; some connection somewhere. I was fortunate to have a sister in Houston who knew people who knew people.

I worked in "the cage", a central area in the large laboratory where a handful of women spent the day answering phones, filing lab reports, providing piles of paper to transporters,  gabbing about coworkers, our lives, and complaining about how bored we were. I was 18 and impressionable. There was not much to be learned from a medical standpoint but I did get an earful of life and mastered the names of some of the most common lab tests.

Over time, I grew restless with the work, eying a group of very young "blood draw-ers" (we didn't call them phlebotomists back then) stationed at the back of the lab, surrounded by blood tubes with myriad colored stoppers, individual  baskets full of supplies: tourniquets, alcohol prep wipes, needles, gauze pads, and tape. I wanted to be one of them; they seemed so cool, confident, happy, and on the ball.

I remember asking the lab director if there was any hope of a transfer out of "the cage" since I was pre-med and all. Fortunately, he thought this a good idea (never helps to ask) and towards the end of the summer, I moved to the back of the lab where all those cool folks sat with their trays of tubes and needles.

Training for the newbie phlebotomist?  By today's standards, laughable. But again, this was (groan) almost 40 years ago. Today, phlebotomists are trained technicians with a certificate. What I recall was several laborious days learning tips and techniques in an informal sit-around-and-listen session with other recent hires. None of us was any older than 22.  Our instructor was a seasoned middle-aged, overweight, slow moving Latino woman named Bea. Bea could draw blood from a stone. She was the best technically but took her sweet time training us. All for the best, I suppose.

We didn't practice on each other. We may have stuck a needle in a piece of fruit to get the flavor of the poke. Maybe she watched my technique once or twice. After that Bea was quick to assign each of us newbies to a more experienced young mentor at the back of the lab. And, off we went to draw blood on hospitalized patients.

Gloveless.

Who knew about the risks blood borne infections?

Typing Skills

My Dad was ahead of his day. As school superintendent of the Lago School in Aruba, he insisted that every student learn to type. Mind you, this was back in the day when typewriters looked sort of like the one below. This was also the time when young men launched into careers that had little to do with typing skills whereas women, be the teachers, clerical staff, or housewives benefited from knowing how to type without looking at the keys.

My brother learned to type in high school in Aruba and when he went away to college he was a hot ticket amongst his peers who asked him to type up their papers and reports for class. He earned money by the page. He's still a pretty good typist, probably far better than other men his age.

Hands down, typing was the best skill I mastered in school from the perspective of continuous utilization.  Knowing how to type fast and with accuracy paid off. Countless hours saved. Time is money. More time makes way for more rest.

These days we think nothing of younger folks pecking away at their computer keyboards. I'm not sure how people learn to type these days; probably either  entirely self taught or with a typing tutor on line. The learning starts earlier and earlier; I'd predict many begin as grade school students if not before. In Aruba, back in the late 1960's we learned the 'old school' way where the keys were covered over with heavy duty tape.  We learned to touch type as opposed to the "search and peck" style I see some contemporaries of mine utilize.

Although typing wasn't a necessary skill in Medicine until the early 1990's when email hit the scene, everyone in the field depends on the skill nowadays. The electronic medical record, a prime example of how medical documentation changed in the past ten years makes my point. We type constantly; clinic notes, communications, emails, and other updates fill the gaps between seeing patients. Many of us bring work home in the evening; although this may involve dictation, typing is more common.

Typewriters are a thing of the past except in the lives of  'eccentrics' or the technically challenged. Who among us is not a slave to the keyboard?

I'm grateful that my Dad, who at one time practiced his skills at the typewriter, encouraged all of his students to get into that typing class. Now.