My appointment on Saturday morning was wrought with pain and frustration. First off, I really have to reset all my appointments to be at 7:30am. Any later than that and things seem to get complicated. So, I had to pick up Devlin (my 4 year old child) in Hopatcong by 8am and then get back to Phillipsburg, settle him with my mother and then go off to Bethlehem to make my 10:30am appointment. It was a busy morning to say the least and I was about 15 minutes late to give blood. It was really no big deal seeing as I've witnessed people show up HOURS late. But I digress. The phlebotomist that was assigned to me seemed new. Well, maybe not NEW, new, but at least inexperienced. I got the first hint when she introduced herself... in a very script-like fashion.
"Hello, my name is Paulina (not her real name). Thank you for donating blood today at Miller-Keystone. Please follow me and we'll get started."
Like with most awkward and seriously foreboding situations I am faced with, I smile and I dive head-first into it. Why not. It'll probably be a good story, right?
So that was weird. But whatever. Everyone has their own style and maybe that's just how she's always done it. Maybe they instituted a new code of conduct thing or whatever that requires them to introduce themselves like that. Things only went down hill from there.
It was good, old reliable Righty's turn to get stuck today. After the laundry list of required questioning, iron testing and blood pressure and pulse and temperature, we are off the the big comfy chairs. At this point, I'm not SO nervous any more because, well, she seems... through? I brush it off and chalk it up to just never seeing her before because my brain is telling me I'm a regular here and everyone knows me. Clearly, my brain lies all the time. I get settled and Paulina starts swabbing down my arm and poking my excellent veins to see where we're going to be hooking up. I'm a fan of fast. Bigger veins means a better flow.
Not today. Paulina decides she want's to use a pipe that is about an inch away from my usual delivery system. NOW I'm nervous, but okay. Let's just get this done. In goes the needle and Paulina starts fiddling with the computer. I say "fiddling" because it is unclear that she actually knows how to use it. She's adjusting the pressure on the return and in general, being very distracting. So distracting, that I cannot hear the click over from DRAW (when I have to pump) and RETURN (when I have to relax). The "low draw pressure" alert keeps going off and Paulina is getting flustered and I'm getting pissed. I don't like alarms. In this place, I relate alarms to failure and I am very not good with failure. Then Paulina adjusts something for the draw pressure. She lowers it or something. However, she adjusts this number too early. Suddenly, my time for completion is TWO HOURS instead of my standard 58 MINUTES.
I smile. What else can I do. I tell her it is okay and sometimes that's just the way it goes. She apologizes over and over and over again. But there is nothing she can do now. Time... drags on. I have to keep my eyes locked on the computer screen and squeeze my little stress ball as hard as I can to keep my draw pressure up now. No more alarms. I cannot take any more alarms.
As the two hour mark approaches, I cannot take any more. My arm is completely fatigued and my muscles are screaming at me to BEND, STRETCH, ANYTHING. I call a nurse over to stop the draw. I'm at 87% but I cannot finish it. I'm going crazy. Luckily, I've given enough that the donation is acceptable and won't be discarded.
A day later there will be a golf ball sized bruise on my arm. I have NEVER bruised, EVER, from giving blood. Pretty much, I'm infuriated.
Donations as of December 10, 2011: Platelets 4 | Plasma 1
