The moral of my story: Drink lots of water before giving blood.
Well. Today was the Singer Memorial Blood Drive. I've been meaning to give blood since I turned seventeen, so Beth and I decided to go do that.
Beth and I get there at about 4. We receive numbers 82 and 83. They're calling number 21 to go get their history. Basically we sat for a while.
Beth ended up getting turned away because she was too anemic at about 7. At about 7:30, I sit down at a place to give blood. The guy asks me what I've eaten today - not much. So he goes over and confers with someone else. She comes over, asks me to detail what I've eaten (apple, cottage cheese, pita bread with lettuce and cheese) and says I should be good to go. He makes me squeeze a squishy thing and pumps up the blood pressure thing while vigorously tapping my arm to find a vein. Puzzled, he makes a few dots on my arm with purple marker. He then switches the whole process to my other arm.
Eventually, he decided to go with the original arm, telling me not to move when he puts in the needle or it'll "get messy." So he puts the needle into my arm, and asks if it hurts. I tell him not really, and he says "hm... well, it sort of went everywhere."
So it turns out when he put the needle in, my blood splattered onto the forms that I filled out and stuff and onto the manilla folder. Then he pokes the needle around inside my arm in a valiant attempt to find a vein. He can't do it, so he calls someone else over.
She can't do it either, so she tells him to just take it out. He attends to some other lady while the needle just kind of hangs out in my arm, then calls over a third person. He says that SHE told him to take the needle out, but can she get into my vein? She can't do it either, she just wiggles it around in my arm for a while longer. Eventually, they just pull the needle out of my arm.
So end of story - I didn't help anyone, I sat for 3 and a half hours, and I have a big purple splotch on my arm.
But I TRIED to be a first time donor!
Beth and I get there at about 4. We receive numbers 82 and 83. They're calling number 21 to go get their history. Basically we sat for a while.
Beth ended up getting turned away because she was too anemic at about 7. At about 7:30, I sit down at a place to give blood. The guy asks me what I've eaten today - not much. So he goes over and confers with someone else. She comes over, asks me to detail what I've eaten (apple, cottage cheese, pita bread with lettuce and cheese) and says I should be good to go. He makes me squeeze a squishy thing and pumps up the blood pressure thing while vigorously tapping my arm to find a vein. Puzzled, he makes a few dots on my arm with purple marker. He then switches the whole process to my other arm.
Eventually, he decided to go with the original arm, telling me not to move when he puts in the needle or it'll "get messy." So he puts the needle into my arm, and asks if it hurts. I tell him not really, and he says "hm... well, it sort of went everywhere."
So it turns out when he put the needle in, my blood splattered onto the forms that I filled out and stuff and onto the manilla folder. Then he pokes the needle around inside my arm in a valiant attempt to find a vein. He can't do it, so he calls someone else over.
She can't do it either, so she tells him to just take it out. He attends to some other lady while the needle just kind of hangs out in my arm, then calls over a third person. He says that SHE told him to take the needle out, but can she get into my vein? She can't do it either, she just wiggles it around in my arm for a while longer. Eventually, they just pull the needle out of my arm.
So end of story - I didn't help anyone, I sat for 3 and a half hours, and I have a big purple splotch on my arm.
But I TRIED to be a first time donor!