she tries writing

Library

Phlebcorp

Art by Gwah

Inspired by a recent trip to have bloodwork done

Thanks to Princess Grace for reviewing and proofreading

"Discover your hormonal health with precision with the PhlebCorp comprehensive
 estradiol test, which provides valuable insights into the health of your
 endocrine system," it says on the purple and white brochure that you're idly
 flipping through in the waiting room.

It's just after 9:30am, and you're sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair in an
alcove in the back of the local HealthLine drugstore. Outside of the alcove
there's a sign hanging that says "PhlebCorp: We Never Miss A Vein" On the wall
behind you, a few feet to your left, there's a door with a smoked window where,
presumably, PhlebCorp does their patient services. PhlebCorp is a new medical
diagnostics company that recently expanded into your market to try to compete
with West Diagnostics. They're not covered by your health insurance yet, but
from what your other trans friends have said, they're better than West
Diagnostics by a long shot and well worth the out-of-pocket costs. 


You think back to the last time you were at West for your labs over a year and a
half ago, something you'd been putting off doing for over a year after what
happened last time. You were there for over an hour and a half, being slowly
made a pin cushion of while three different nurses sloppily tried seven times
to try to get a successful draw. Really, it'd been longer than that; they never
did end up getting a successful draw last time at West. Your doctor has been
bringing it up in semiannual appointments, messages in their online patient
portal, even threatening to discontinue your prescription if you didn't get
your labs done. With that, she kind of forced the issue. You've had to endure
through periods of a couple weeks without hormones in the past due to pharmacy
stocking issues. Those brief periods without hormones had been your closest to
rock bottom in years. 

"Miss Hopper?" A woman with a rough and untrained voice calls. 
"Is there a Miss Hopper here?"

You snap back to reality, having been adrift in your thoughts for almost 15
minutes. You glance down at your aging digital watch, with its enormous black
bezel and unsightly 90s rectangular body. It's 9:43, just ahead of schedule for
your 9:45 appointment.

"Sorry, yes, that's me," you say as you turn to your left. There's a woman
 standing in the doorway calling you to the back room.

She's tall, at least a good 3 inches taller than your modest 5'9", and has the
palest skin you've ever seen. Nearly as white as a sheet of plain paper. She's
wearing greyish-blue scrubs, with a striped purple long-sleeve shirt poking out
around the collar. She has wavy, shoulder-lenghth dark brown hair. She's
wearing a wide red lanyard, midway down the length there's a she/her pronoun
pin, and a progress pride flag pin. Her ID badge hangs from the lanyard,
identifying her as "Marilyn Acula, NP".

You stand up, following her into the back room. The patient service room is
nothing special. There's a number of nondescript cabinets along the walls above
and below the counters that line most of the walls of the room. There's a pair
of sturdy chairs, where they could probably take a second patient if there was
another lab technician working.

She points you to the nearest chair, which is pulled out about three feet from
the wall. That's weird, usually it's up against the wall. You sit down as she
pulls up your patient records on a small computer across from the patient
seating. You can't see what it says, from your position it's just a black
glossy square because of the privacy screen they installed to help comply wth
patient privacy laws.

After a few seconds, she asks "name and date of birth?"

"Alice Hopper, June 19th 1995", you reply
"Perfect, let's get started." she says.

She starts rummaging through the drawers for the supplies she needs.

Instinctively, you stick your right arm out on the armrest with your elbow
facing upwards. You've done this before many times, you know the drill. You
might as well make this easy for the both of you, you think. You start pumping
your fist, supposedly it helps make the vein on the inside of your elbow really
pop so the phlebotomist can find it. 

You watch her as she gets ready, continuing to pump your fist. She ties her hair
back; with hair that wavy, it must be a hell of a time trying to keep it under
control otherwise. In a rather unexpected move, she puts on a cloth bib, the
kind you'd typically wear at the dentist to catch drool.

She turns back to you, looking down at your arm as you try to get ahead of the
instructions you're anticipating from all of your past visits to have lab
work.

Giggling, she says "You can put your arm down, dear. We won't be needing it for
your lab work today." She continues, "Since we're just doing a basic metabolic
panel, estradiol, and testosterone, I can have those results for you before you
leave here today."

She pulls up the other chair from your left, and sits down across from you.
"Alice, that is your preferred name, correct? May I call you that?" she asks.

"Yes, Alice is perfect," you reply

"So, Alice, here's the deal: For routine bloodwork, we operate a lot differently
 from any of the other medical diagnostic labs out there. See—"

She pauses, opening her mouth and pulling up the edge of her lip to show off her
sharp, almost unbelievable fangs.

She continues, "A lot of the phlebotomists here, myself included, are vampires.
Not quite like we're depicted in media, we're not evil beasts out to kill. We
drink blood, sure, but we're otherwise pretty much normal people. We can also
transform into bats, which is pretty cool, I suppose. About 15 years ago,
PhlebCorp was founded by a breakaway group of trans vampires trying to escape
the ways of old and fit into human society. Really, for us, it's mutually
beneficial. We've trained to be able to quite accurately detect hormone levels,
blood sugar levels, and a variety of other things common in diagnostic
medicine. We're able to make a living in human society, and, extremely
importantly, I'm able to get my own hormones through blood. It's the only truly
effective method for HRT for vampires. Don't worry, the procedure won't convert
you into a vampire. We've been vaccinated against that as part of the
requirements put forth by the FDA to allow us to operate. When I bite you,
you'll feel a tiny sting for a moment, and you'll feel a bit lightheaded and
hazy for a few hours, like if you've ever donated blood. The intake paperwork
you signed when you were checking in out in the lobby included a non-disclosure
agreement about the whole... vampire thing, y'know? We're still not
widely-accepted in society because of centuries of folktales portraying us
negatively, so we're trying to keep that part on the down-low. Usually we don't
have issues with the NDAs, because the post-bite haze kinda fuzzes the memory a
bit. Are you all good with continuing, Alice?"

You spend a moment thinking over all of what you just heard and reply "Y-y-yes,
Miss Acula, this sounds fine."

"Very well then, let's begin" she says.

She gets up from the opposing chair circles around your back, ending up behind
you to your right.

"Please tilt your head to the left and hold still, dear." she says You comply,
 tilting your head. You feel her warm breath on your neck.

You feel a sharp but brief sting as her fangs enter your neck. A hot flash flys
across your body, and after what feels like it must've been hours, she releases
your neck from her bite. 

You feel dizzy, hazy, even. Everything around you feels like it's running in
fast forward. It feels like your brain's been underclocked. The feeling you
associate with the disorientation and tiredness you get from taking your
progesterone shortly after eating. 

"Would you like some water, Alice?", she asks

"I, uhm, yes", you mumble out as she hands you the water.

"I'm going to keep you here for a few minutes so you can get your bearings
 back."

Marilyn goes over to the computer and starts typing as she mumbles out your test
results.

"Estradiol - 357 picograms per mililiter, a tad high. Testosterone - 7 nanograms
 per deciliter, a bit low, you may want to look into iron supplements or a
 little bit of supplementary testosterone gel-"

******

You sit in your car, a bit hazy, listening to the local talk radio, trying to
remember what all happened. You keep looking back in your visor mirror at the
little marks on your neck, trying to figure out what happened in there. You're
perplexed by the lack of any sign of a even a blood spot or needle entry point
on either of your arms. 

Whatever happened in there, you just remember the way it felt. A pleasant
experience having a blood draw for once. You're not sure how the phlebotomist
did it, but you're planning to come back again next time for your labs.