you'd think, what with our history steeped in bloodletting, the process of donating blood would by now be considerably less... i don't know...

barbaric.

so, good citizen i am, i was all signed up and ready to donate blood for my fellow man. despite weird collarbone/inside of arms thing. ::shudders::

but i should have heeded the signs

i get there late as i had to wait till after lunch due to irregular eating habits, or total lack thereof. so i'm getting nervous-nauseated on a recently full stomach as i dance back and forth awaiting my turn...

and when i finally make it to the medical test part, i find i am the guenea pig for random extraordinarily slow-typing volunteer who does not know how to use the pressure arm thing or how to take blood from my pobre now-quite-bruised finger. always a great way to begin an hour-long session that will ultimately end in one submitting herself to be stabbed in the arm and drained of her life-fluid.

so i'm making myself as comfortable as possible in the freezing gym with the ominously large blood bag laying heavily in my lap and i'm watching the goings-on around me because people-watching is my favorite pasttime and there was nothing else to do anyway.

my vampire-to-be was a little old foreign woman from who-knows-where, but she seemed nice enough. she certainly lavished enough attention on my blood partner, even taking painstaking detail to a christmas tree made of the neon tape for him to wear over his wound. then she'd snap back and glare at me as i tapped my feet together nervously, watching him with growing dread as he nonchalantly filled his bag.

she didn't like me from the start. i have bad veins.

so she's prodding my elbow crooks mercilessly, demanding i keep clenching my fist over and over again, and all the while i want to throw up at the idea that she may have to stick both my arms if one doesn't work. i ask meekly if maybe my lack of good veins is due to the fact that i am freezing, and she waddles off and returns with a giant napkin. now i feel like a dinner fork and i'm still cold (though surprisingly less so).
then it's press press press rub rub with the disgustingly cold iodine and STAB and gasp and my eyes are shut tight but i've jerked and she's muttering about how she's missed and it's over and ruined. so she yanks the needle out of my arm, presses a sterile cotton ball thing hard onto the sickening hole and coldly intructs me to keep it raised.

so that's it? it's over?
i apologize over and over and she dismisses me with a quick wrap in bright green tape. no christmas tree for me. not even a "have a nice day, sorry to butcher you for not even a sense of inner- or social gratification in return." if anything it was more along the lines of an "i'm done with you and you've wasted my time. i hope your arm hurts a lot."

i left with a sense of self-loathing in my pocket and a pack of cookies in my hand. i gave most of the change in my purse to toys for tots purely so i would have done something socially conscious for the day and wouldn't feel like a total waste of volunteer energy. later i stole away with a hat. i thought i deserved at least that much. then, on top of it all, my bookbag strap broke. the very same bookbag i carry my life in. the very same bookbag that weighs a thousand pounds on two shoulders, let alone one.

now my arm is uber-sore and it itched so i took the wrapping off and i'm sick again just seeing it out of the corner of my eye. the hat is awesome. but our sewing machine is dead again so my bookbag situation is just kind of screwed.

padre the former emt was appalled at my bruising and says i was butchered, which makes me feel at least somewhat in the right.

but i still didn't save a life.
i still suck.

~~~~~

random appropriate quote:

"oh that's a fair trade, a cottonball for all my blood."
-tom hanks in bachelor party

~~~~~

p.s. hooray for seniors being home for christmas!

ack! i'm still calling them seniors!

p.p.s. was patron for the arts and watched the choruses tonight... loverly. as always.

p.p.s.s. am well aware that i changed tenses several times through this entry and, though that is my greatest pet peeve of all time and it makes me jittery with annoyance just thinking of it, am going to leave it be for now. got something like one hour of sleep last night and am about to fall over dead as it is (though the night is still young at 11:22). enjoy!

::visibly grimaces at glance of arm::

ink :: graphite