Blood Test

My family knows blood. Whether through accidents, falls or roughhousing, my loved ones spill their share of life-giving plasma on a regular basis.  Unlike my husband and kids, I manage to keep the majority of my precious Type O molecules where it belongs.

Unless I’m on jury duty. jury duty

In my lifetime, I’ve had two spontaneous nosebleeds and for reasons still unclear, both happened in county courthouses.

The first time, sitting in the jury box during voir dire, the much too sexy sounding term for our country’s mind-numbing jury selection process, I tried to stop the sudden surge of blood without drawing any attention to myself.

Scared I would unwittingly secure a spot on the jury by disrupting the proceedings, I sacrificed my favorite turquoise sweater to staunch the flow. A fellow potential juror offered a pocket pack of Kleenex, which I promptly filled to saturation. My fistful of blood streaked tissues may have persuaded the court to release me from jury service.

My second jury duty-induced nasal eruption, two years later, coincided with a lunch break. I’d spent the morning in a courtroom with a judge who didn’t allow any reading materials, counting the minutes until lunch. As I bit into a turkey on rye, I felt a cold drip from my nose. The sight of blood droplets speckling my coleslaw activated my startle response; I looked around to see if any others were spontaneously leaking bodily fluids.

Clutching my sole napkin to my nose, I hurried past the security screening where a guard helped me to the bathroom. As I leaned over the sink, my nose gushed blood, streams splattering the porcelain basin. Before long I’d attracted a small crowd of security guards, all eager to see Old Faithful gush on demand and to offer care and opinions.

“You’re losing a lot of blood there, honey. I think you better sit down and put your head back.”

“Sit tight and pinch your nostrils until the ambulance gets here.”

Although shocked at the amount of blood leaking from my body and the whiteness of my usually olive-colored skin, I had no intention of going anywhere in an ambulance. Who the hell calls an ambulance for a nosebleed? Apparently, the security guards at the Circuit Court of Cook County, that’s who. So much for being inconspicuous.

When three attractive, engagingly funny male paramedics arrived, I couldn’t believe my luck. I wished I was having a heart attack or suffering from a broken limb; anything but an unimaginative, messy nosebleed. Granted, I was married, but that level of male attention doesn’t come along often. Other than in romance novels and romantic comedies, that is.

Although I ultimately declined to go to a hospital and returned to jury duty that afternoon, I enjoyed every second of the paramedics’ sexy expert care. Taxpayers of Chicago, I thank you. Keep up the good work.

My next jury duty summons arrived in the mail yesterday. I’ll pack tissues, a change of clothes and some lipstick just in case. I can hardly wait.

53 thoughts on “Blood Test

  1. Isn’t that the way it seems to go? The hotties show up at a time we least want them but, hey, makes a nose bleed much more fun and interesting. Love Chicago for that! Great story and, yes, the lipstick may come in handy!

  2. Super funny post! I’m really curious about whether you’re going to shed blood at your upcoming courthouse date.

    P.S. I think I would endure a nosebleed if I knew it would get me out of jury duty.

  3. Three sexy EMT’s walk into a courthouse.
    “What’ll you have” the judge asks them.
    “A Bloody Mary” they reply…..

    Thank you! I’ll be here all week. Please remember to tip your waiter ladies and gentlemen.

  4. So happy to see you back on the grid Mary! I think I mighta gone for that ambulance ride. I mean, 3 cute guys? I have yet to be nabbed for jury duty since we moved to NJ 3 years ago. I’m ok with that. The trials in Newark are scary enough to give me a nosebleed, even though I’m not prone to them!

    • Thank you! You are sooo lucky! The court system has my number and seems to like having me for jury duty even though I’ve never been selected for a jury. If I sent this post to the jury duty honchos, do you think they’d take my name off the list?

  5. 3 hot paramedics? Yes please! I may stick a paper clip up my nose for that! AND volunteer for jury duty. Great writing…and I bet you’re gorgeous, even in the middle of a nosebleed.

  6. On a practical note, don’t clutch your hand to your nose, it’ll just fill with blood and spill, use the back of your hand to create a seal whilst you can look for a tissue or many! There’s also a pressure point on the top of the lip that slows/ends nosebleeds. Just don’t ask how I got to be so experienced! 😉

  7. Well, that’s definitely the most unique way I’ve heard so far to get out of serving on a jury. To the security guard that told you to “tip your head back” that is no longer the recommended way to treat a nosebleed. You should still pinch and use a tissue to soak up the excess, but don’t tip your head back. All that does is cause the blood to drip backwards into your head… and who needs that. Not that I’m forecasting that this will happen again or anything like that!

    • I’ll tell you what, I’ll forgo the cute EMTs and endure a bloody anything if it will get me out of jury duty! Thanks for the nose bleed tip – the EMTs said the same thing so your medical knowledge is up to date!

  8. Maybe the air in courtrooms is really dry and it causes your vessels (or capillaries) to break? Hmmm. Very mysterious, indeed! Funny story! And what girl doesn’t love a cutie in uniform to save the day? YUM.

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