Don't fear the phlebotomist

Not the most transparent of titles, I admit. For those of you out there thinking that the longer of the four words in the title sounds like something vaguely kinky, well, sorry to disappoint you, although it does involve penetration of a certain kind.

No, a phlebotomist is someone who takes blood samples in a medical capacity. Now, the New York public health law I mentioned a while ago requires me to document immunity to measles, mumps and rubella. Given that my NHS records are in cold storage cos I've been overseas for the last two years, I had no option but to get the blood test done at our local surgery.

So, gritting my teeth, I walked in at 8:45, spoke to the doctor, had my blood pressure taken (it's apparently "perfect"), and went in to see the phlebotomist. I will readily admit that I am not very good with needles, so I gritted my teeth and tried to think of something else while the equipment was readied and then inserted. Unfortunately, the first attempt didn't really work - either she missed the vein, or my blood pressure was so low that it didn't want to come out, and I could only manage a few drops into the syringe. It took no fewer than three attempts to get enough of the red stuff out to fill the vial, during which I had something of a dizzy spell, necessitating the last two attempts to be done on the floor of the surgery lest I fall over. Not an experience I would care to repeat, but one has to see the humour in the situation. Still, all done and dusted now, and if everything goes according to plan I should have the results in before I go to NYC. Otherwise I could be in trouble - I'm not allowed to register without them.

Apart from that, quite an uneventful week. I helped out with more gardening round my Mum's place, saw my brother, who as I write has now gone to Italy for ten days, and enjoyed yet another absorbing contest in the Ashes. England have the Aussies on the ropes - tomorrow will show if they can finish the job and go 2-1 up in the series. It would be truly special if it were to work out that way.

And while we're on the subject of sport, I managed to squeeze in a game for the Wadham College Old Boys' team in Battersea on Saturday afternoon. As I my wont, I played in goal, and while I was a little erratic at times, I was nothing like the nervous wreck I had been when I made my debut for Wadham 3rds all those years ago. Not that it made much difference - we still lost 4-3, just as we had way back in 1997. Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose. In any case, then and in the pub afterwards, it was great to catch up with some old faces from college, most of whom are now city boys. Different lives, different goals these days, but no harm in turning back the clock for just one afternoon.

More of the same on Sunday, meeting Karen, until late of Miyagi and Shizugawa, in Cambridge for lunch, pub and shoe-shopping. The first Miyagi-ite I have seen since I got back, and it seems unlikely that I'll cross paths with many others apart from her any time soon. Got filled in on all the gossip, and it was naturally a pleasure to spend an afternoon with Ms. Scott. While it's only been three weeks since I left, it already feels like the two years I spent in Japan were a different world, somehow divorced from reality. In a sense they were - real life is about to get a lot more real when I get on that plane on the 23rd...

As luck would have it, I am due to fly with BA a week on Tuesday - I'm off to Cambridge tomorrow to get some travel insurance, just in case...