“Phelmbologist.” That was the way LuLu answered her pre-writing activity on Monday. Little did either one of us know, not LuLu or her science-challenged mom, that it was PHLEBOTOMIST. But I got the drift of what she wanted to be. She wanted to be the one who drew the blood…and she wanted to work in a lab.

Today, we had the ultimate excitement of going to the lab of the local children’s hospital for blood work. Usually we go to the nearby clinic that our insurance covers, so LuLu actually knows these women by name. Today we went into Atlanta and to the children’s hospital (which was so gorgeous and fun). She got to actually register as an outpatient, with a bracelet and everything…a red letter day.

The Phlebotomist was duly impressed that LuLu would recognize her profession and politely corrected our spelling and pronunciation. She was further impressed when LuLu was able to identify the biohazard container and the butterfly needle and asked specifically for the wrap-around bandage like Super Dad gets when he donates platelets.

And so it is with LuLu. It’s her near-Aspergers tendencies showing. Because this is her chosen “profession” for the moment, she knows nearly everything an 11-year-old could possibly know. She quickly told the woman that they didn’t need to use the special numbing agent with her, that she could handle the needle stick. And she pumped her fist to make her vein show without even being told. Yes…she is a willing veteran to blood draws.

Her knowledge about all this was intriguing to the women working in the lab. My guess is that most kids want to be the doctors and nurses, and few zero in on phlebotomy as their chosen field.

And, in reality, I can clearly picture her in this career. The academic challenges of being qualified for this are within her grasp. Sure, we’ll have to work on her patient-interaction. But with her attention to detail and true interest in medicine…it is a definite possibility.

Meanwhile, she will definitely be technically prepared. How do I know? I can hear her and Super Dad arguing over the remote control as I write…and he’s complaining that she’s just spent the last two hours watching the Discovery Health Channel! Should I tell him it is job training?


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