As you may know, Jesse and I are two college students that do the typical college student thing to do. Donate Plasma. We go so often that the flebs and workers there have come to recognize us and have come to know us a bit. They were there when we were engaged and are here now that we are married. Well today was just like any other day. Or at least that is how it started. Said hello and asked how each other was doing. Said no to a million questions all asking the same thing (Do you have AIDS???). Getting your finger pricked and waiting for your turn with
"the BIG needle."
What first went wrong was my decision in what arm to use. Usually I use my left because the veins are a bit bigger than the right and are easier to hit. But my left arm was a little sore from so many pokings, so I thought I would give it a break. Bad idea. It probably took the worker three minutes before he could actually get the needle in my vein in my right arm. Talk about painful. I think that was the worst it's ever hurt going in. It was straight downhill after that. You could even say I was free falling off the side of a cliff. Apparently the needle was in the vein perfect but sometimes it would flow, then stop. Flow, then stop. So they had to keep moving the needle around, pulling it out a little, pushing it back in a little, shifting it to the side, then the other side. My vein just did not want to cooperate. I was on my second cycle (total of 3 for me) of the process when things REALLY got bad. The worker was making one last ditch effort of getting my vein to finally work before using my other arm. This last ditch effort marked the end of my donation because he poked too far and hit my tendon. Now THAT one hurt. And I made sure I was vocal about it. It hurt so much I started to get really dizzy and very sick at the same time. I felt so bad for the worker. He was trying to do everything before I did "anything." Needless to say, by the time my stomach got the better of me, I had three workers hovering around me. One with a bucket, the other wrapping my arm after getting the needle out, and the other watching the fun. Talk about VIP treatment.
After my fun little "episode" they still unfortunately stuck my left arm so they could get my blood back to me. Then, I was asked some more questions about how I felt, how I felt before I was reintroduced to my lunch, and etc. Thankfully I still got the full amount of money even though I didn't donate a full thing.
It was cute though because I texted Jesse that I was having problems and he made them let him come back so he could check on me. Isn't he such a cutie pants! When we got home I slept for about two hours. I probably would have slept til morning but Jesse made me wake up. I still feel like I could sleep for forever, that and my arm is making sure that I know that it is still there. Moral of this story. I am never letting them use my right arm ever again! Never, ever, ever, never, ever, never!
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