And seriously I had to set a new record for the longest time spent inside the donation building.
I show up at 1:10 (slightly early for my appointment) and fill out paper work and read all about how if I have engaged in any high risk behaviors that would make me more likely to contract HIV, I can’t donate (no, I am pretty sure I have not had sex for money or drugs since 1977). I do a little cha-cha, sidling up to the front desk no less than 5 times as the nurse keeps calling me up to ask me random questions.
At 1:30 I’m called into a little room with the nurse and she pricks my finger to test my blood (
oh, you did good, she says,
most of the guys I do that do get all jumpy; The think that’s the worst part). Then she proceeds to ask me a series of questions in the fastest voice I have heard. Such as,
have you had any piercings, tattoos, acupuncture, blood transfusion, anti-coagulants, intravenous illegal drugs, or clubbed a baby seal in the past twelve months? (I was forcibly reminded of Mitch Hedburg: “I had to take a physical to do this show. They had a lot of weird questions like, "Have you ever tried sugar or PCP?") I answered 8 of these all-encapsulating yes/no questions in the span of what felt like a minute (I even screwed up on the one about are you taking any medication because she was going so fast I thought she was asking me about specific medications, not
including these specific medications). Just as the question sprint ends, her nurse friend pushes open the door to our little room.
My nurse: What were the results?
(Dana thinks: Why are they discussing another patient in front of me? Have they had time to do anything to me that they could even test? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?)
New nurse: I didn’t even have to wait for a minute
My nurse: So it’s pink?
New nurse: Yeah, it’s a pink line.
My nurse: Go get it, I want to see it. Oh, I’m so excited.
New nurse: Don’t be excited. I left it in the bathroom, you go get it. You have gloves on.
(Dana thinks: Ohhhh)
So after new nurse departs (and BTW she did come back before I left the room to show my nurse that indeed the little stick says she’s pregnant), I get shuttled back out into the waiting room. Another nurse peers out at me from an office and says, okay, I’ll be with you in a minute. She’s sitting with a couple of other nurses and as far as I can tell they’re on break. They don’t appear to be doing anything too official, but I wait patiently, reading my book, and feeling nervous.
By the time I’m called into the office it’s around 2:20. The guy examining me (I don’t think he’s a nurse, but I don’t think he was a doctor either. Somewhere in between?) goes through the entire binder of information I’d just read in the waiting room. Then asks me many questions (no, I have not been incarcerated for longer than 72 hours. Ever. No, not in the past 12 months either). After a brief physical exam (man, I do miss those reflex texts) I’m ushered back out into the waiting room.
My in between fellow tells me I’m going to need to give so-and-so my name and last four of my social when I’m called. Good thing he told me. There is a woman standing at the counter calling out names. People then shout back. (
Craig? and then from along my row
Craig Adams, 3452. It was like a secret code.
3:00. I’m herded into the plasma donation room (really just separated from the waiting room by a short hallway). There are blue beds shaped like stretched out “U”s and mine is damp and smells like cleaning fluid. Before they usher you to a bed, they ask
which arm. I don’t know,
right I guess. My technician does not like my right arm (darn vein is on the side!) but apparently my left arm has a nice “juicy” one right in the middle (he really did say that). He assures me that he’ll explain everything as it goes along.
Since it’s my first time, they have to draw a few vials of blood to be tested (you know, in case I was lying about my high-risk behavior or I have too much iron in my blood). This is by far my least favorite part. He makes me “pump” my hand (imagine squeezing your hand around an imaginary rubber ball you’re holding) while the pressure cuff tightens around your arm to get that pretty vein to pop up. I make a fist as he inserts a needle (this is still not the part I really hate) and the pressure keeps building up in my arm. My fingers start to tingle and are quickly going numb. These vials are filling at what seems a snail’s pace and it feels like my arm is a pipe with a kink in it with all that pressure building up (
um, are my fingers supposed to be tingling? I ask with some trepidation.
Yeah, don’t worry, that’s totally normal and that feeling will go away when your we start the procees).
Finally at 3:20, blood drawn, he unclamps my tubing that leads to the plasma separator machine (so not the technical term). While my blood is flowing into the machine, I have to keep pumping my hand (fortunately he gave me something to squeeze. I thought at first it was a green foam ball. No, actually, it was a green foam heart. Hehe). This actually hurts a little, but mostly because he keeps telling me I need to squeeze my hand harder and faster and my arm is a bit pathetic (it is lefty after all). While the blood is going in, it is sent through a centrifuge and separated. The plasma goes into a large plastic bottle down below and the red blood cells are sent to a container to wait (hang out, shoot the shit, discover how sucky it is not to be swishing around my circulatory system). After the container has about a cup of my blood, it’s mixed with an anti-coagulant and sent back into the body (this feels a little weird but I get to relax my hand (no pumping!)). This process occurs around 10 times. The guy sitting next to me is nice; knowing it is my first time he periodically offers comforting advice. The strangest thing he says, though, is
yeah, they treat you like a VIP when it’s your first time, putting you at the top of the line, but then when you get to the best part they make you wait (where was my VIP experience and what the heck kind of waiting was he talking about? I of course don’t ask but just laugh politely).
A little after 4:00 (fortunately, my veins are not free thinkers like Rob’s; see comments from last post) my bottle is full (well, fullish. I’m in the lowest weight class, so they don’t take as much from me as some of the bigger guys sitting around me). A new operator comes over and quickly takes me needle out (
that’s it?). Then she says:
wait here. She comes back with a juice pouch and crackers. I’ve seen about 5 people get up after their donation was complete. No juice and crackers.
Since it’s your first time, I want you to sit up slowly and eat the crackers, drink the juice, and wait to make sure you don’t feel dizzy before you stand. And all I wanted to do was get paid! I didn’t feel dizzy, but I enjoyed my snack, kicking my legs like a little kid. I went up to the cashier window and after signing (7th signature of the day) was unceremoniously handed 35 dollars cash. Yay!
