There's something in my veins, bloodier than blood

In the genetic lottery I won a disorder which means my blood clots like a bastard. I was lucky enough to survive a pulmonary embolism that resulted from one such clot traveling to my lung and thereafter have remained on a diet of rat poison (Warfarin), and will be ingesting this until the day I die. I had some relatives succumbed to this disorder so I happily tuck into the pink and blue pills every evening.

I go through this process here every few weeks to determine if I am on the correct amount of medication. The sample is used to measure my INR which is the rate that my blood clots. Having a higher than "normal" INR is essential to my stalking the Earth a little longer than would otherwise have been possible.

The phlebotomists who jab me and extract my red treasure do a great job and very rarely am I inconvenienced by as much as a bruise. I have this done at Canterbury Health Laboratory in Cashmere.

If you didn't recognise it that's a quote from a Wilco song there in the title. It's a great number from their album Summerteeth - if you haven't heard it, then hunt it down. Life is too short to go without great music.