Me at the doctor's office

This was part of a much much longer post that I'm still editing down. I thought it was a good enough story that it deserved it's own post. The short story is that I went to see the doctor about some anxiety problems I've been having lately. At the end of the appointment he sent me to have blood taken, and then this happened...

As far as I can remember, I have never had blood taken. I went down to the err...blood-draining room, and waited my turn. A young man with a shaved head and a white coat that looked less like a doctor's and more like a butcher's called my name.

 Above: A whole mess of hepatitis

As he prepped me to be drained, I asked him a barrage of questions. No doubt owing to how nervous I was. He thought this was very amusing. Prick.
Now, it's important to note that I have a 'thing' about blood. This is something I discovered recently. The sight of it (my own, or anyone elses) now makes me lightheaded, dizzy and pale as a ghost.

 Not as much fun as he'd have you believe.

After extracting my blood, the man taped me up, and asked if I was feeling lightheaded at all. I said yes, but probably due to how nervous I was. I told him some fresh air would set me right as rain. He shrugged and sent me on my way. I then started to climb the stairs to leave the building.

It was about this time that blackness crept in around the edges of my vision, and I began feeling very dizzy.
I grabbed onto the nearest wall for support, and held up my hand in front of my face.
Couldn't see it.
Crap.

I quickly thought to myself:  "Okay, you need to sit down for a bit. You're not going to throw up, but you're in no shape to be walking"
I then remembered I passed a handicapped washroom on the lower level. Quiet, private, clean. The perfect place to ride out this lightheadedness. I began to descend the stairs, clutching the railing for fear that I would fall onto the ceiling.

 Nearly me.

As I neared the bathroom, I remembered that next to the information person at the blood depository had lollipops next to the sign in forms. In my blood-drained brain I managed to reason that 'candy = sugar, sugar = energy'. I tried to look not so much like an injured antelope walking up to the desk, reached up my hand, and, misjudging the distance due to my eyesight, punched the ever loving hell out of the candy container. I managed to clutch one of the lollipops and turned around to walk out. I believe I remember the attendant asking me if I was alright. I was in no mood to answer questions.

 Now I know how the QWOP guy feels.

I went into the handicapped bathroom and sat down on the bowl and tried to get a hold of my senses. It took less time than I thought it would, but sufficient time for a lady to walk in, apologize profusely and then walk out. I had clearly neglected to lock the door, which I quickly remedied.

I sat for about 5 minutes, collecting myself and decided I was well enough to leave the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Joy of joys.

I was in the WOMEN'S handicapped bathroom.
At that point I could do no more than laugh at myself and walk out of the doctor's office.
So that's my bloodletting story. I have not heard back from the doctor with regards to my blood, so I assume it's very bloody and there's nothing I should worry about.

Why couldn't I have walked into THIS handicapped lady's room??