The Life of the Flesh

Well, at long last I've made it to a blood drive!!!!....some of you may know that I have had an almost morbid fascination with giving blood for the last year plus. Now, after a saga of waiting to turn seventeen and to get a good opportunity, the time had arrived.

On Monday I learned via the internet that SNHU was hosting an all day blood drive the following day. Since I was going to be in that neck of the woods anyway, I gleefully made plans to go and convinced Mum to come too.

All Tuesday I pumped iron (ate green leafy vegetables, chicken giblets, and fortified LIfe cereal) and drank gallons of water. After all this waiting, I wasnt about to be turned back for some stupid reason like dehydration.

Anyway, around 5:30 Mum and I made it into the Penmen's gym. It was mobbed! I guess the hurricane really made people aware of the Red Cross or something. Nervously eyeing the long lines we asked the sign up lady how long it would take. She told us to expect to be there for at least an hour and a half. sigh. We decided to stay anyway, lured on by the free monarchs tickets, t shirts, and Red Sox raffle tickets. (and I thought it was illegal to pay for organ and blood donations!!)

After signing in we were shuffled along to the next station where we received numbers (49 and 50) and several sheets of info to read. As we read and waited for our numbers to be called, sinister things began to happen.

"I don't think I can, do this, Bria." Mum became nauseous and saw white flashes, etc. as she read the pamphlet. Eventually, at my urging, she decided to leave, let me give blood by myself, and send Aaron to pick me up. She's had multiple terrible hospital experiences and hadn't eaten much that day, so it seemed best that way.

Once on my own, I sat and waited for numbers to slowly advance. (they were at seventeen or so when we got there, and moved verrrrry slowwly.)

At long last, my number was called, and I got a donation form. I was told to go sit with another group and wait for my number to be called again. If I got through that hurdle I would go sit in another group and wait some more.

On my way to the chairs, I spotted a familiar green and gold shirt with Hebrew writing. Hooray for the IDF! I almost congratulated the wearer on his choice of apparell but chickened out at the last minute. He was kinda scary looking.

Anyway, I sat down next to number forty-eight and tried to read the lips of the tiny old lady who called out numbers. After minimal strain, I caught a weak "six!". argh. I settled down to people watch. Twas interesting.

Had time to imagine all sorts of reasons to say no to the question, "was I feeling healthy and well?". Maybe I was tired...maybe I was achy...maybe I was coming down with something. Ah, the power of suggestion.

The girl next to me told me exciting stories of needles the size of juicebox straws and blood clots and stuff. She was quite nice. (really, she was, despite her scary tales.)

After an age, I was called up. I sat in a little booth and let a nurse prick my finger to test my blood. Boy am I glad I don't have diabetes or whatever it is that requires pricking your fingers every day. Mine's still sore, for some reason, and violin would be tricky.

The dreaded iron test as first.

I failed it.

After two hours of waiting, I was informed that I needed to have a minimum of 36% red blood cells, and I was at 34%. (Iron is used for making red blood cells, I think.) I was told to eat lots of meat and stuff and come back in a few weeks.

I was actually relieved, because at that point I was feeling pretty drained without losing an extra pint!

Daddy was waiting for me and took me home.

Next time, I think I will make an appointment at the blood center.

(oh, and they let both Mum and me keep our Monarchs tickets!)