Introduction

One day, I was sitting in the phlebotomy room of a relatively large

private university hospital, accompanying my elderly father. The

room was rather quiet and several phelobotomists were not very

busy. A boy, about second-grader in elementary school, was called

by his name and number. He came to the phlebotomist, somewhat

hesitatingly. The phlebotomist started the routine procedure,

placing a band around the boy’s arm and disinfecting the skin area.

Just when she was ready to insert the needle, the boy said weakly,

“I’m not mentally ready for this yet.”