Lab work leads to awkward interaction

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on September 12, 2017 7:03PM

It seems there are certain occupations where people think you’re always on duty.

I’m sure doctors get it all the time — running into patients at church or an athletic event. Some people think nothing of showing off a rash and wanting free medical advice.

As a journalist, I often have people approach me about doing stories — at community events (that I’m not covering), at the grocery store, at a restaurant eating dinner and even standing at Interpath Laboratory holding a container of my own urine.

Going to the lab to provide urine and blood samples already messes with my routine — especially the tests that require fasting.

It’s a delicate balancing act to go the required number of hours without consuming food, while drinking enough water to provide a urine specimen and still be a civil human being in public in a caffeine-deprived state because I haven’t had my morning Pepsi.

Because of my early week double deadlines, it’s most convenient for me to do lab work on a Thursday or Friday. On Sept. 1, the stars were finally aligning — although a late night snack nearly derailed the whole process.

I woke up in desperate need of Pepsi, but it had been nearly two weeks since the doctor called in the order for lab work. I knew I had to take care of it.

So, I finally make it to Interpath and the phlebotomist draws my blood sample. Since the urinalysis didn’t require fasting, she said I could take the bag and specimen bottle with me to do the UA at home if I wasn’t able to produce on demand. If I had planned to go home, that may have been a viable option.

However, I was headed to work and certainly had no interest in dealing with this in the work bathroom. The last thing I wanted to do was carry around a bottle of my own pee.

I produced the required specimen and exited the laboratory’s bathroom. Standing there holding a clear plastic bag which contained a clear plastic container with my urine, a woman who was getting her blood drawn by a different lab worker was staring at me. I smiled, because despite the caffeine deprivation, I’m generally a decent human being.

She said hello and introduced herself. I was dumbfounded — remember, I’m standing there with a plastic bag with a container of my own pee.

“OK,” I replied.

All I wanted was for my lab lady to re-appear so I could unload my specimen and be on my way. However, that didn’t occur and the woman then proceeded to tell me she was with some community group in town and she wanted to talk to me about her club.

I just stood there — flabbergasted that someone wanted me to engage in a discussion while I was standing there holding my own pee. Apparently, she noticed my reaction and asked, “Are you OK?”

I didn’t respond. It was surreal. I’m not sure how long the encounter lasted but the other lab worker interrupted the awkward interaction and directed me to my lab lady.

And, by the way, I wasn’t OK. I hadn’t eaten for nearly 12 hours, I was in desperate need of Pepsi and did I mention, I was holding a container of my own pee.

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Rain, snow, sleet — reporters cover their beat

Journalists — and firefighters — venture out in all sorts of weather to do their work

By Tammy Malgesini

Staff Writer

Published on December 21, 2016 6:56AM

I just wanna say the post office ain’t got nothing on journalists.

Chiseled in stone at the New York Post Office on Eighth Avenue are the words, “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”

Whatever.

After a bunch of snow blanketed Eastern Oregon a decade or so ago, our letter carrier left a note saying that our mail delivery was being suspended until we cleared the white stuff from around our mailbox. And, that wasn’t the first time a carrier had threatened to hold our mail hostage. Someone had crashed into our mailbox, leaving it with a permanent lean to the left. Yup, we had to straighten up the pole before they would resume delivering our bills and junk mail.

Anyway, reporters and photographers don’t let a little snow get in their way of telling the news. While schools get snow days and government agencies are on two-hour delays, journalists are bundling up and trudging to work.

During this recent winter storm, some of my co-workers with rigs that don’t fair well in the snow have car-pooled, while others have strapped ice cleats to their shoes or skis on their feet to walk or glide to the newsroom.

As this past weekend’s Saturday reporter, I checked out the weather forecast before choosing my attire. With temperatures hovering around 0, I decided to wear my Under Armour ColdGear and Gore-Tex Merrells with Vibram soles. It was a wise decision.

I started my day in the warmth of the Hermiston Conference Center. As I exited the building, I planned to go to the newsroom to process photos and write a story. However, the flashing lights on a fire engine caught my attention and I headed to check it out.

It was a frigid 4 degrees outside while I was crunching my way through the snow to get photos of the firefighters in action. Oh, and just a suggestion, Chief Scott Stanton might want to get some ice grippers on those boots of his. He did a little slip slidin’ away, falling on the ice.

I remained upright and stayed as warm as one can with an exposed face and hands while operating a camera. I certainly do appreciate the ColdGear technology of Under Armour — although they are a bit spendy.

Tired of having a cold bum, I bought my first set back when I was skiing all the time. I don’t know if it was shock or my Under Armour, but I stayed relativity warm one time while waiting for ski patrol to rescue me when I look a tumble at Mt. Bachelor.

When I arrived at the ski patrol urgent clinic, I was afraid they might try to cut off my upper layers. I excused myself to the restroom and somehow, despite a broken collarbone, wriggled my way out of the skin-tight Under Armour.

That, my friends, is determination to protect something very important to me. Stay warm!

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Tammy Malgesini is the community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539