Escapades in Blood Donation
As many of you may know, I was supposed to give a blood donation yesterday. I was incredibly excited about donating blood for my first time. I felt ready to brave the needle and any symptoms I may have felt afterward. I prepped by drinking a nalgene and a half of water. (And peeing all morning long as an immediate result.) But, ah, fate did not have a blood donation in mind for me on that particular date. No, indeed it did not. Hematoma is more what fate had in store for me.
I sat in the chair, and gave up my left arm to the woman's (nurse's?) ministrations. I turned my head away, having worked myself into a frenzy of fear about that needle. When the woman stuck it in... it wasn't that bad at all. I could definitely feel it, but it really didn't hurt like I thought it would. I relaxed. This wouldn't be horrid at all.
Then, the nurse started saying that I was developing 'hematoma.' Yesterday this time, I had no idea what hematoma was. Yesterday, when it was happening, my wonderful companion Jackie did her job of keeping me from looking at the horrors going on in my left arm, and so, I did not know what hematoma was when it was happening to me. Now, ah, now I know only too well. Hematoma is a localized swelling filled with blood resulting from a break in a blood vessel.
Translation: She had poked the needle through the other side of my vein when inserting it.
...
...
I know. I know.
Well, it meant that my blood stopped flowing down the tube and into the bag, and instead, was flowing underneath my skin. As this is not normally good for donating blood, she removed the needle, bound up my battle scar, and told me my veins were very small. She said I could try donating blood again another time, but to drink more water next time. Now, as you may have noticed earlier in my entry, I did drink a lot of water that morning. I think a few things about the size of my veins:
1. I was absolutely freezing in that room. Cold constricts blood vessels. Enough said.
2. Instead of being productive before I marched off to Smith Hall to donate my blood, I napped. Sleeping constricts blood vessels. Enough said.
3. I think I just have small blood vessels anyway.
So, next time I donate blood, I will have to 1. Be warm, 2. Run a lap or do something other than sleep beforehand, and 3. Warn them.
And, yes, there will be a next time.
I have to beat Kinzee's seven minute donation.
Even though I have an ugly bruise on my arm, which, last night, felt like a goose egg on the inside of my elbow... Even though I'm afraid I'll hematoma again... Even though I don't like that needle... Oh, even though I have experienced all of these trials and tribulations, I am honor bound to prevail, and send Kinzee's seven minutes into the dust.
I sat in the chair, and gave up my left arm to the woman's (nurse's?) ministrations. I turned my head away, having worked myself into a frenzy of fear about that needle. When the woman stuck it in... it wasn't that bad at all. I could definitely feel it, but it really didn't hurt like I thought it would. I relaxed. This wouldn't be horrid at all.
Then, the nurse started saying that I was developing 'hematoma.' Yesterday this time, I had no idea what hematoma was. Yesterday, when it was happening, my wonderful companion Jackie did her job of keeping me from looking at the horrors going on in my left arm, and so, I did not know what hematoma was when it was happening to me. Now, ah, now I know only too well. Hematoma is a localized swelling filled with blood resulting from a break in a blood vessel.
Translation: She had poked the needle through the other side of my vein when inserting it.
...
...
I know. I know.
Well, it meant that my blood stopped flowing down the tube and into the bag, and instead, was flowing underneath my skin. As this is not normally good for donating blood, she removed the needle, bound up my battle scar, and told me my veins were very small. She said I could try donating blood again another time, but to drink more water next time. Now, as you may have noticed earlier in my entry, I did drink a lot of water that morning. I think a few things about the size of my veins:
1. I was absolutely freezing in that room. Cold constricts blood vessels. Enough said.
2. Instead of being productive before I marched off to Smith Hall to donate my blood, I napped. Sleeping constricts blood vessels. Enough said.
3. I think I just have small blood vessels anyway.
So, next time I donate blood, I will have to 1. Be warm, 2. Run a lap or do something other than sleep beforehand, and 3. Warn them.
And, yes, there will be a next time.
I have to beat Kinzee's seven minute donation.
Even though I have an ugly bruise on my arm, which, last night, felt like a goose egg on the inside of my elbow... Even though I'm afraid I'll hematoma again... Even though I don't like that needle... Oh, even though I have experienced all of these trials and tribulations, I am honor bound to prevail, and send Kinzee's seven minutes into the dust.