Blood

I'm not sure that I'll ever live down pressuring my cousin to give blood with me at Key West. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and I forced him to come with me--we'd do it together, and wouldn't it be fun? Who cares that we're on vacation in the Keys? Let's go save lives!

Long story short, since I was getting over a cold, they didn't want my blood, so he had to go through it all by himself. I've always felt guilty that he wasn't able to enjoy that day of his vacation, and ever since then, I've been determined to give blood. So yesterday I did.

The bus was parked right outside the school, and I went in around an hour and fifteen minutes before my next class, figuring that would give me enough time.

First, my blood pressure and pulse were too high. Grr. No one would have known I was nervous if that stupid blood pressure machine hadn't tattled on me. Why don't they just call them "lie-detectors"?

So, after being forced to admit that I was in fact a wee bit nervous, I was given a few minutes to calm down. I went to my mental happy place, and passed the test the second time. Yay.

I settled back on the table and started chatting with Jose, the blood-letter-outer. (And that's a technical term...) He asked if I was nervous. I gave up the charade. Yes, Jose. I am nervous. Help me.

He proceeded to tell me that he was actually a homeless man yesterday, and that he had a sign reading, "WILL WORK FOR FOOD," and these people gave him this job...and he'd never done this before, but he watched some training videos, so it would probably be okay.

I felt better. Really. He then began the search for my vein. It was not hard to find. I apparently inherited my mom's veins. Doctors love them. Edward Cullen would, too...but thankfully, he does not exist, the creeper.

The needle went in, and all was well...for about three minutes. But then I started to feel really light-headed. Jose was not impressed. He exclaimed, "Tara, no! You haven't given me even 200 mL of blood. You're not fainting now! Tell me about Florida."

I started talking about beaches, and the dizziness went away. Mind over matter--that's what Jose said.

Unfortunately, the wooziness was a recurring enemy. At one point, I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. I looked over and saw concern plastered on Jose's face. He ran over and grabbed my hand and yelled, "Doctor, I'm losing her!" He wasn't trying to be funny that time, but even in my woozy state of mind, I found it hilarious. Good grief, Jose! I'm fainting, but I'm pretty sure that I'll wake up again!

I think I was the only calm one. Everyone surrounded me. I was given apple juice and ice packs, and all the while, Jose was coaching me to not succumb to the fainting. He kept murmuring "Stay with me!"

I desperately wanted to just faint. It was so tempting. I begged him to let me just close my eyes, but he forbid it and made me talk to him. Some sweet older lady named Georgia was rubbing my hand.

I looked up at her and said...."So, tell me about yourself."

She looked amused and began to tell me about her grandkids. I don't remember a word she said, but I just wanted someone else to be talking. I was getting stressed out because they kept asking questions that I could not form intelligent answers to. (Things like "What is your hometown famous for?" and "What type of trees do you have in your backyard?" To be honest, I have a hard time answering those questions even now...)

And then, I started to sing the ABC's. I have no idea why, and I'm really embarrassed about it now. What's worse is that I only made it to "G," because I couldn't remember what came next.

It must have helped though, because I somehow came back to life. I was later told that my lips were white and that the color slowly drained back into my face. I would have liked to see that. I imagine that it was like Aslan breathing on the stone animals. ;)

I was forced to cough loudly and deeply so as to get more blood to my brain. Jose told me I sounded like I had hairballs and that I needed coughing lessons. Eventually, I was able to sit up. Georgia gave me a cookie and they finally let me go, but not without escorts to make sure I didn't collapse on the ground.

I was 15 minutes late for class and totally missed a quiz. Oops.

But now I can cross "give blood" off my list of things to do before I die. Now, I just need to go to Africa, get married, and have kids.

Only, I think I'm going to add another thing to my list. "Give blood without looking like a wimp." I'm such a loser.