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“Dude, why me—WHY ME?!”
The Lookout was practically empty after nearly all the pups were called on a mission. The only ones left were…
A mad scientist puppy named Carbon out for a poor Zuma’s blood. That’d be quite an exaggeration of a description, as Zuma did agree to be his so-called “patient” for a canine venipuncture practice (and Carbon is no mad scientist, but a medical technologist). Zuma bailed out at the last minute, forcing Carbon to make the Labrador reconsider. The Border Collie stood at the far edge of the Lookout’s meeting place, with a smile that told of amusement and ‘Are you kidding me right now?’
“Zuma, please,” The scarf-wearing puppy trotted closer with a packed needle in one of his paws. The water puppy can’t help but wonder how he’s able to walk like that. “I’ve mastered pushing needles in people, this won’t be too much of an issue.” Zuma snaps out of his wonder and retreats further, his back hitting against the wall.
“You said it yourself! That the body of a pup and a person are different!”
“Ooh, yes, I did; like how it’s absolutely normal to access the jugular vein for venipuncture in dogs and it being a very stupid decision on a human.” Carbon rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Not too different, though. Like how the veins of the antecubital fossa are the best choice for their accessibility in humans, the same goes to the jugular veins in dogs. I do much better than human VetMed students, thank you. Now, come on…” His voice shifted into something soothing and hypnotic. “It’s not gonna hurt too badly. Look here,” A paw rests on Zuma’s chest, two toes palpating something there. “Your vein’s not too hidden. It took me seconds to palpate it, so I won’t stick the needle too far in.” And in a slightly jeering voice, he continued. “Zuma, are you scared of getting pricked?”
“Of course not!” The brown pup retorted, but Carbon raised an amused, yet challenging eyebrow. “I only don’t want to get pricked because…!” The words get stuck in the labrador’s throat, “Because…”
“It’s me.” Carbon finished. “You’re scared of getting pricked by an amateur, of course that’s understandable.” The Border Collie finally sat down, putting a distance between them. “But you do know I’m not much of an amateur, right? I’ll fill a K 2 EDTA tube with Ryder’s blood in front of you if you’d like me to.”
Dye potassium etilinediamiwhat…?
“Well, I know you’re no amateur but…” Zuma cast his eyes downward to Carbon’s paw, the needle still packed. Carbon notices his shift in focus and brings it in front of Zuma’s face.
“It’s gauge 25, the standard size is gauge 21… for humans, that is.” The Border Collie paused. “I guess I should’ve looked it up, huh?”
“SEE?!” Zuma began to freak out again, and the Border Collie was swift to respond.
“The jugular vein is a major vein, even in dogs!” Now he wasn’t even sure about that part, because why on Earth would you have a major vein as a choice for a venipuncture site?! Carbon hopes Zuma doesn’t see through his bluff. “So it’s much, much larger than the median veins in a human! And note that the larger the gauge number, the smaller the needle, so a gauge 25 is much tinier than a gauge 21, and mind you that we’re pushing this in a big, major vein.”
Zuma still looked tense.
“And my needles are of good brand, you will barely feel any pain. So… please?” Zuma began to re-contemplate, and Carbon took this chance to seal the deal. “I’ll let you pick which tube color you want!”
“The orange one!” Zuma wagged his tail, his ears perked up at the information. “Let me have the orange one!”
“Got it.” Finally… Carbon swiftly donned specialized nitrile paw gloves and tore up the needle’s packaging, then unscrewed the needle and rescrewed so the bevel tip aligns with the numbers, and he uncaps it carefully. Zuma stares in wonder. The needle is indeed… small. “Don’t move or speak too much, since I’ll be pricking your chest now, alright? Now breathe in slowly…”
Something sharp goes in Zuma’s chest, but it was indeed rather painless… It was like getting bitten by an ant, all things considered. The chocolate Labrador’s eyes widen when he sees something red backflow into the syringe’s hub. With his other paw, Carbon carefully pulls the plunger of the syringe and blood slowly flows in. Oh gee. Holy cow. Whoa. Carbon stops when the syringe is halfway full, and he carefully draws out the needle, replacing it with a cotton ball.
“Wow!” Zuma could barely contain his excitement as Carbon held the needle bevel facing up. He fishes out the needle’s cap in front of Zuma and runs off to the other edge of the room, and Zuma follows to see the Border Collie take out a tube with an orange cap.
“Can I keep it?” The Labrador enthusiastically asked while watching Carbon uncap the syringe. “I want to show it to Ryder!”
“Of course you can, it’s not my blood after all.” Carbon gave a smirk before uncapping the tube. “Here’s a little secret: Usually you’d see others shove the needle in with the tube top on to hasten things, but that’s not a great practice because the cells could lyse.”
“Lyse?”
“Technically, the cells would get destroyed. The laboratory would reject this sample if it happens because that’ll affect test results, which will affect the diagnosis, leading to mistreatment.”
“So why do others still do it?” Zuma asks after processing everything in a pause. Of course, if it’s not a good practice, then why is it being done?
“They’re not aware, I think.” The Border Collie shrugs. “A blood sample with lysed cells is evidenced by a reddish plasma. You’ll see what plasma looks like later, but it’s a pale yellow fluid that floats on top of this after some time.” He raises the uncapped syringe and the empty tube. “Now the best way to avoid a bad sample is to push the blood in carefully like this.” Carbon pushes the plunger, and Zuma’s blood fills the tube satisfyingly. When it was full, the scarfed pup put the tube’s top back and offered it to Zuma. “Here you go. Now that wasn’t so bad, wasn’t it?”
“Thank you!” It indeed could’ve gone worse than Zuma imagined. Carbon gently grabs the Labrador pup’s paws and moves the tube around gently in a motion of drawing a horizontal eight.
“Forgot to do that, my bad. The reason would be a very long explanation, but doing this is important.” After doing it around five times, Carbon lets go. “Try not to vigorously shake it, it could go ba—” But Zuma has already run out of the room, and the sound of vehicles reaches Carbon's ears. The Border Collie hopes the erythrocytes in the sample wouldn't lyse, it'd be a shame if Zuma didn't get to see the color of the plasma when it separates.