Bite the Blood Bullet....
So yesterday, I went to give blood for the first time.
I gave in to peer pressure (all the cool kids are doing it!) and went with a friend of mine.
I'd always thought about going to the blood mobile when it was on campus, but never took the time. Nearly all of my friends here give blood, and they were pretty surprised I'd never done so, being the clean, healthy, kind-hearted, blood-filled sort of person they look for in donors. My friends are awesome... and I want to be like them.
So I went to the blood bank. Filled out lots of paperwork, answered lots of questions, and then had a little finger-prick blood test to determine my iron levels.* I got a 117 at first, which was too low, so the nurse decided to test me again from an arm vein. After cooing over my large veins for a second, she took some from my right arm with a small needle and I got a 121 iron count, so I was feeling pretty good (I got this. I TOOOOtally got this. I can take a needle, Yeah!). I watched as she prepared the left arm, and then suddenly....
she pulls out...
THE GIANT NEEDLE OF DOOM!!
I mean, I could have used the thing as a straw! And it was sharp! And I turned away quickly and tried not to panic as she put it in. It's a weird feeling having a hunk of cold metal in your veins, and it was that feeling, the feeling of it just sitting there, more than the going in that really got to me.
I had to try very, very hard to think about something else and not to panic because there's A GIANT NEEDLE IN MY ARM OMGGETITOUT!!! I had a moment of manic laughter, which is, apparently, how frantic panic avoidance manifests in my person.
But I read about the messed up people living in Wuthering Heights and managed to steer clear of real panic. It was really good when I stopped feeling that arm because then I couldn't feel the needle inside me anymore. It really wasn't SO bad... I just freaked myself out by looking at the needle and getting weirded out about something being under my skin which wasn't supposed to be there.
I really hope that my blood helps someone because I'd hate to have gone through that for naught.
Hopefully next time will be better now that I know what to expect.
I got tea and cookies and cheese and crackers after, which was very nice, and suffered no ill effects whatsoever.
In a few weeks I get to learn my blood type. I've forgotten what it is. It's probably nothing terribly exciting, but It's still nice to know thyself.
Anyhow... Join the IN crowd... Give blood!
(If you're clean and healthy and not scared stiff of needles).
*They gave me a band-aid. A whole band-aid for one little prick? Really? I work with my hands so much a tiny little prick like that is only notable because you have to suck on it for a few seconds to make sure you don't get any blood on the art. :P
I gave in to peer pressure (all the cool kids are doing it!) and went with a friend of mine.
I'd always thought about going to the blood mobile when it was on campus, but never took the time. Nearly all of my friends here give blood, and they were pretty surprised I'd never done so, being the clean, healthy, kind-hearted, blood-filled sort of person they look for in donors. My friends are awesome... and I want to be like them.
So I went to the blood bank. Filled out lots of paperwork, answered lots of questions, and then had a little finger-prick blood test to determine my iron levels.* I got a 117 at first, which was too low, so the nurse decided to test me again from an arm vein. After cooing over my large veins for a second, she took some from my right arm with a small needle and I got a 121 iron count, so I was feeling pretty good (I got this. I TOOOOtally got this. I can take a needle, Yeah!). I watched as she prepared the left arm, and then suddenly....
she pulls out...
THE GIANT NEEDLE OF DOOM!!
I mean, I could have used the thing as a straw! And it was sharp! And I turned away quickly and tried not to panic as she put it in. It's a weird feeling having a hunk of cold metal in your veins, and it was that feeling, the feeling of it just sitting there, more than the going in that really got to me.
I had to try very, very hard to think about something else and not to panic because there's A GIANT NEEDLE IN MY ARM OMGGETITOUT!!! I had a moment of manic laughter, which is, apparently, how frantic panic avoidance manifests in my person.
But I read about the messed up people living in Wuthering Heights and managed to steer clear of real panic. It was really good when I stopped feeling that arm because then I couldn't feel the needle inside me anymore. It really wasn't SO bad... I just freaked myself out by looking at the needle and getting weirded out about something being under my skin which wasn't supposed to be there.
I really hope that my blood helps someone because I'd hate to have gone through that for naught.
Hopefully next time will be better now that I know what to expect.
I got tea and cookies and cheese and crackers after, which was very nice, and suffered no ill effects whatsoever.
In a few weeks I get to learn my blood type. I've forgotten what it is. It's probably nothing terribly exciting, but It's still nice to know thyself.
Anyhow... Join the IN crowd... Give blood!
(If you're clean and healthy and not scared stiff of needles).
*They gave me a band-aid. A whole band-aid for one little prick? Really? I work with my hands so much a tiny little prick like that is only notable because you have to suck on it for a few seconds to make sure you don't get any blood on the art. :P