Beep, Beep, Beep my intravenous line machine sang. Keeping my arm straight wasn't working. At the skin site (I'm not medical savvy at all) blood drops were leaking from the beeping line. Between the occasional slot machine moves on my beeping machine by nurses and my conscious straight hold of the wired arm, the beeping stopped for a few seconds.
It was in the evening when Jane said, "I'm going to fix this." She brought an arm full of towels to the opposite side of the beeping machine. She wrapped my free arm with warm wet towels and encased them with dry towels. She was preparing to put a new line into my free arm because she was tired of the beeping and had heard others (nurses) say it was difficult finding a cooperative vein. When I arrived at the Halifax emergency room I guessed I wasn't going home when a nurse was trying to hook me up.
Upon several attempts, the ER nurse announced, "One more try and then I'll call in the cavalry." The cavalry did come in to confirm my overnight stay with my arm attached to several flying bags. Before I had time to tell Jane about bets, wagers, and the size of pediatric needles used to hook me up, Stop! Jane had me hooked up, my wiggly vein, and not feeling a thing. She used part of her break time. Jane said this method was not feasible every time, but when all else failed or in my case, re-sticking me in a large old hole that was leaking blood droplets, it was the best. She ended the beeps with a painless entry and said, "Now you can fall asleep without the beeps." Thanks, Jane, for your care.